He’s baaaaaaa-aaack. The sweet heat brought the return of our ass-bearing son. I was sitting out in the yard, getting my daily fix of Bust-A-Marble on the iPad, when I noticed the top of his head bobbing along my fence line. I cut the game short and called in the bitches. The viewpoint is from the kitchen. It’s the only place to really appreciate the spectacle since I put in the privacy fence. It was an orange and yellow string number that night. The Thongman cometh.
My weird voyeuristic fascination with Thongman is strange. We’ve been neighbors for six years and he’s really only pissed me off once. His family is nice. I still think Alli ate one of his kids’ pet rabbits, but that’s a whole other story. The entertainment factor of my neighborhood is fairly high and for my money, he is king.
I gotta give the guy props for confidence. I don’t think I know many people, let alone men, who would wear a thong with pride while doing the yardwork. It’s slightly amazing to me how he never seems to get much of a tan. Plus, it’s his yard, do what ya gotta do. I like to steal the Moto Cat summer fashion sense and run around in a sports bra or bikini top and shorts while I do yard work or hang out at home. Maybe someone calls me Bra Lady and has a weird interest in my activities.
Speaking of Moto Cat, she is linked my favorite Thongman memory. The mail carrier accidentally delivered his men’s underwear catalogue to my house. Since it was bulk mail and had things like latex boy shorts in it, I kept it, taped the pages together, and wrapped Moto Cat’s wedding present in it. “It’s a long story,” I said to the aunt collecting gifts at the reception. Her depanned reply? “I’m sure it is, honey.”
The funny part thing about Thongman is that when it comes to this neighborhood, he really is just the beginning. Okay, like I said, he’s king. He’s the magical center of the central SF universe, but there is a fabulous cast of supporting players around him. Like the guy I see walking his coon. Not a racist remark. Not a dick joke. Homey actually has a housebroken, leash-trained raccoon. You don’t see that kind of shit south of 26th Street.
My new personal favorite is a fella I call Curses A Lot. I like the fact that he watches his kids while they are outside playing. That’s a good thng since there are like seven of them and they are all tiny. Seriously, there are seven of them, like diapered little dwarves running barefoot through the alley. They leave naked dolls in the mud puddles after it rains. The cynic in me can’t decide if they are playing CSI or swimming pool. Or maybe they are playing drown daddy’s bad words since I’ve lost count of the times I’ve heard him yelling GD or fuck at them. It’s sad in a way. Part of me wants to ask him if he wishes he would have bought some fuckin’ condoms and part of me is sad for the kids. They look at me with a longing that is 30% please save me and 70% I know I’ll be pregnant in middle school anyway and Teen Mom is gonna be paying mad by then, so whatever.
It’s not all weirdness and housing vouchers, though. Take out a few slumlords and there are actually some pretty cool properties around here. There are old people, young people, and families. There are people of every color and profession. And I think many of no profession, but what do I really know…
I like the fact that there are always kids playing outside and the trees are so mature and varied. Plus it’s fun to live somewhere that lets me forget that I live in one of the whitest states in the country. I guess I’ve always gravitated to places that aren’t cookie cutter and this is as good as it gets for now.
The bitches dig the ‘hood. There are plenty of other dogs around, although Alli is tired of being mistaken for a pit bull. We’ve only had trouble a couple of times, once early on a Sunday morning when a very drunk man started yelling at us in Arabic and stuck his finger in Alli’s face. She took a swipe at him, but held back and didn’t connect. Not too long ago, a couple of dudes were yelling, “You got a husband?” at me and Al’s hair on her neck stood up instantly. I think that was her way of saying, “No, but she has Man Friend and I love him, so get fucked loser.”
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