Meeting of the Middle of Street Committee

The warm temperatures in March have brought out the spring flowers, the weeds and the impromptu gatherings that we in the neighborhood call the Meeting of the Middle of Street Committee. 

At our last get together last night the husband and I joined Stoner Bob and Just Call Me Judy and Storms A Blowing Corliss in a mutual bitch session over the Hostile Lesbians that stirred a shit hissy last November over not feeling the love last November when they insulted everyone on the street.

“What’d they do this time,” asked my husband who is the most accepting person on the earth, until he senses bullshit.

Just Call Me Judy was turning three shade of magenta, getting up the gumption to tell when the Bob Wolfe’s came up with their Irish Wolf Hounds, James and Joyce, and asked what was up.

“Are we gossiping,” asked Bob Wolfe.

“Or are we just bitching in general?” asked Bob Wolf.

Stoner Bob – who shares a house with Pot Smoking Phil – caught them up that Just Call me Judy had had a bad encounter with the Hostile Lesbians.  “Go ahead and tell them Judy.”

Judy explained that she had just bought her first new car in twenty years and was showing it to I Don’t Have A Sphincter Audra when one of the Hostile Lesbians came up with her toddler, Torston, and accused Just Call Me Judy of contributing to the destruction of the plant through her wasteful consumerism.

“She then berates me because there are plenty of used cars on the planet that are perfectly good, but that buying a new car that uses up Mother Earth’s rare commodities…”

 “…and contributes to a bleak and polluted future for Torston, right?” finishes up Bob Wolf.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“Oh, bitch…” says Bob Wolf.

“…PLEASE!” says Bob Wolfe.  “She tried unloading that truck of bullshit on us last week when we were out cutting our yard.”

“She saw Bob,” said Bob Wolf, “using our lawn mower and says to him, after the pleasant ‘hello’s’ if he was aware that using a gasoline lawn mower was helping to destroy the future of a clean world for Torston…”

“…and I am like who the fuck do you think you are?” finished up Bob Wolfe.

"BOB!" shouted Storms A Blowing Corliss.  "Such language."

“OLA!” Helicopter Sandy joined in and was brought her up to speed.

“And like those fucking wood fires that they burn in the ‘ashe pit' or whatever they call that thing out back isn’t contributing to global warming?  I asked them about and they said that because wood is natural, its part of the life cycle of the world.  Sanctimonious cunt. ”

"SANDY!" shouted Storms A Blowing Corliss, who looked like she was going to simply die.  "Such language."

"Well," says Sandy, "You don't like 'fuck' so I thought I'd turn it up a notch."

Just Call Me Judy wanted to know if the Hostile Lesbians were just mean or clueless.

We chatted among ourselves and decided that they were clueless and annoying selfish, but not malevolent, yet.  The sky to the west was turning black as pitch and the wind was beginning to kick up.

“I just hope,” said the Husband, “that they don’t start up that Lesbian Chapter of La Leche League like Weird Willa did.”

“But breast feeding is beautiful and it’s good for baby.  Although I think Torston is beyond that point,” said Just Call Me Judy.

“Was that all those fat bitches sitting out on the porch a few years ago suckling the young?” asked Stoner Bob.  “Some of those kids were riding two wheel bikes.  And some of those 400 lbs. women had nipples the size of hub caps. Man, that was gross!”

The Bob Wolf(e)s were appalled.  Corliss, even more so.

From there the discussion turned to other mundane things, included in which was that a play date between James and Joyce, and Rocky and Kevin was set up and a discussion on why our neighborhood is among the last for Columbus’ new mandatory recycling program.

The meeting broke up when the Tornado Sirens went off.  Storms A Brewing Corliss made her usual announcement ("Storms A Brewing!") which seemed rather pointless and the crowd dispersed. 

As the husband and I went back into the house, we both wondered that if we move, whether or not the new neighborhood would be a place where people got together and chatted together.

I’m hoping it will be – gossip is a great unifier. 

“What if we found the perfect house, but it was next door to two helicopter parents who were lesbians and their wunderbaby was named Torston?” asked the husband.

Now that would be a deal breaker.