Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Smoking in the bushes

I used to go over to Aunt Thelma's house quite often. Aunt Thelma was quite the busy-body. She would stare out her window and watch the neighbors. She would open the windows sometimes so she could hear them. Sometimes I was there when she did it. She would give me the low down on what was happening with who. And if they looked up at the window, she would say, "get back." We had to hide. It was so exciting for a kid. We were like spies.

The most fascinating guy to me was the old man across the street. He was really little. He was short, bent over, and skinny. He wore glasses. He smoked. He smoked a lot. He smoked behind the bushes. He was always out there in his underwear, one of those tank top undershirts and white boxers. He did wear the standard old man black calf length socks and black shoes. His wife was always yelling at him. One time when she turned her back he flipped her off. Aunt Thelma would say how disgusting he was and then at that moment we would have to hide because he would look toward the window. Um, pot...kettle...hahaha.

She was so funny.