Hottie neighbor, I never knew ye

Ah, well, gosh darn and heck. My hot little (not so little–about 6’2 actually) neighbor is moving away tomorrow, and I am bereft. I always thought I might hook up with him some day when we both had the time. But I was always roaming around the freakin’ world, hanging out on fishing boats and at casinos and in various Chinatowns in various cities…and my neighbor got bored of the South Bay, and off he goes.

I wonder what his girlfriend thinks about all of it. She used to glare at me because he said ‘hi’ when we saw each other in passing. She must seriously be Medusa-faced now that he’s ditched her for a $50K pay raise and a change of scenery.

(Girl. A tip from me. He’s 26 years old. That’s what boys that age do.)

When I first thought about sleeping with my neighbor, a wise and jaded former friend-with-benefits said, “Don’t do it. You’ll bump into each other all the time, and if either of you happens to be with a girlfriend or boyfriend at that moment, things will get super-awkward.”

This made sense to me, so I decided not to jump on my neighbor, even though it would literally have taken just one jump: right over the little iron railing and onto his balcony, where he’s always hanging out on the weekends, shirtless, with six-pack abs and dimples and a leftover buzz from the night before. He’s the jock you can’t help but like–the one that gave a damn about school and went quasi-corporate and goes on heli-skiing vacations and is as adorable in adulthood as he was growing up.

I have a weakness for those guys, I admit it. They’re so…mellow. Like Labs, kind of. Yeah, I wanted to sleep with him, but I also wanted to scratch him behind the ears and give him a biscuit. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why it never panned out.

Instead, I entertained vague but enthusiastic notions of introducing him to various girlfriends of mine. (“He’s sweet, he’s tall, he’s got a nice body, he’s an attorney…what more do you want?” I would demand of them.) And I promised him that I would come out drinking, or go to his house and engage in drinking, or that he could come to my house and there we would drink. But when all was said and done, I don’t feel like hanging out with frat boys in my spare time, and he was always in the midst of a pack of them. So…

 Au revoir, neighbor. I can’t for the life of me remember what your name is, but I’ll miss seeing your smile. And your abs. And I’ll miss bumming cigarettes off you at 1 in the morning when we’re both more drunk than we should be. Good luck in your new home…and I hope you find a new girlfriend who’s less of a jealous bitch than the old one.

Oh, and stop dying your hair black. I realize it’s your last vestige of schoolboy rebelliousness, but it’s more trouble than its worth, since your hair is only an inch long. If you really want to make a quiet counter-cultural fashion statement, pierce your nipples. That’ll get me over your balcony in 2.2 seconds flat.

1 Response to “Hottie neighbor, I never knew ye”

  1. 1 Jacob Harper
    February 5, 2008 at 8:56 pm

    something i can relate to that has been put into words, great job. I can’t tell you all the thoughts that go through my head when i see my neighbors. It’s a struggle and a battle to figure out how is it that i want to relate to these people.
    The beauty of life is the process that it takes to figure these things out. And guess what? yes, there will be some casualties along the way.

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January 2008

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