SinkSide

A tad more by way of background: The current tenant has resided across our 5 foot alleyway for a little more than a year. Had I thought of this idea a year ago, you would have learned slowly over the passage of that year that which I am going to now feed you in an executive summary. After reading this post, we’ll be ready to launch into real time reporting as developments occur.

For easy future reference, and so as to avoid a lawsuit, I’m going to Name the Neighbor with a pseudonym. Let’s call her something that sounds a little trashy, to match the persona. How about Twyla? (Sorry to all of you Twylas out there – no offense intended. This just goes back to my days in college when I actually resided in a trailer for a year, and our neighbor’s name was Twyla. I’m sure there are many respectable, upstanding, educated and intelligent, non-trashy Twylas. This is just getting me into trouble, isn’t it? I’ve only been blogging for 20 minutes and have probably alienated an entire segment of the population already…). Anyhow, as I mentioned, Twyla moved in a year or so ago, and her every possession was not so covertly eyeballed by the entire neighborhood as she moved in. Her stuff seemed normal. This was a huge relief, given the history of tenants, one of whom furnished the entire house with a single pool table in the living room. That was it. No other furniture. So Twyla was off to a good start. As I recall, she didn’t have a professional moving crew, just a herd of guys, who made trip after trip from the U Haul to the house, and could be seen through the then open kitchen door sucking down beer. She apparently had standards; anyone who smoked, including herself, had to do so outside on the back stoop. We were able to observe of her that she appeared to be maybe mid-40s, bleach blond hair cut about chin-level, or whatever level is too short to stay in a pony tail, where she tried to keep it. She was, and continues to be, slightly overweight, and her skin has that grey smoker’s pallor. She had a nice smile, though, with good teeth. The first thing taken in was a cappuccino machine the size of a Honda. The last thing taken in was a cat-carrier with two occupants, which made me like her a little bit.

Twyla’s first night in her new abode turned out to be pretty much a cookie cutter for what would follow throughout the year. The distinction of move-in day was that there were a bunch o’ guys, all at once, getting drunker and drunker as the day wore on. That was the only occasion upon which the crowd was exclusively, but for Twyla herself, all male. Subsequent crowds gathering for parties have consisted of both male and female. Most of the single visitors since, however, have been male, and therein lies the story.

Twyla seems possessed of ravenous sexual appetite. Well, in fairness, I suppose there doesn’t have to be anything sexual about it. Certainly, but for some very torrid embraces and tongue-sucking kissing viewed through the kitchen window, we have no actual evidence that sex occurs. Her male friends, however, are too numerous to catalogue. Whatever she does for a living (which allows her to drive a pretty nice car) requires that she arise in darkness (we know this because we arise in darkness, and see her lights on) and depart for work well before we do at about 8 a.m. She is home most nights, entertains most nights, but I can’t remember a single occasion when we’ve seen evidence that a suitor (stud?) was still around in the morning. All of that, and no one spends the night. Interesting, don’t you think?

So that’s the rundown on the SinkSide view from our Kitchen Window. Next post will introduce the view from OtherSide of our kitchen.