This Is How To Get Invited To All The Neighbourhood Parties

Warning: This post is not for the weak, or for those who are easily bothered by sexual innuendoes. Also, this post is not for you to read, Em. Go wash the dishes or something.

Guys, remember our neighbour across the street who likes to clean out his garage every weekend? Remember him? Remember how I thought he was kind of crazy and strange because that's what he'd do, starting every Friday, and repeating it Saturday and Sunday, as soon as the weather warmed up?

Well, now he's pissed me off. He's no longer just weird and irritating. Now, he's bothersome, in a bad, bad way.

Because, now, he vacuums his van at 7 a.m. on a Saturday.



And if there's one thing that really pisses me off (and, in case you're thinking there's only one thing that pisses me off, there's definitely more than one, but I'm only focusing on this today because it's enough stress already, people) it's making unnecessary noise early in the morning on a weekend, when most people in this lovely world of ours are trying to sleep in just a tad.

I had my window open Friday night, because I like the night breeze once the weather warms up, and because it's my god-given right to have my window open without worry of audio assault from some hee-haw across the road who thinks he lives on a freaking acreage.

Obviously, Mr. I-Have-No-Life-And-Therefore-I-Make-Everyone-Around-Me-Miserable also has no brain. But, really, when you think about it for more than a nano-second, there is no way in heaven or hell that he does not know that the noise he creates vacuuming his damn vehicle wakes everyone up. So, I have logically deduced he just must not give a rat's ass.

Oh, and it's not enough that he does this, and will be doing this all summer long. Nay, he also has the gall to have an inground swimming pool installed the summer before last, and has not once invited us over for a swim. No, he just taunts us by having his children scream with utter delight and make extra loud splashing noises. And I'm sure he sits back there, laughing heartily to himself, knowing how this makes us feel.

As I think about all this, I have a sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach, guys. Because all this vacuuming Mr. I-Have-No-Life does might not be for the sole benefit of van cleanliness, if you know what I'm saying. I'm suddenly thinking that perhaps this guy has a bit of a problem (well, of course he does, if he's cleaning his freaking van at 7 a.m. on a Saturday), and in a -- ahem -- sexual foible kind of way.

You see, guys, my mind goes to the story a while back about the Michigan man who was caught doing the dirty deed to a vacuum at the carwash. Have you heard about this? Someone caught him having a little playdate with the vacuum hose, and he was arrested. And now I'm thinking that maybe Mr. I-Have-No-Life really doesn't have a life outside of his van and his garage, and maybe he is in fact so deranged that he's mistaken the vacuum for his wife. God help us all.

So, anyway, getting back to me. I have a plan. A Plan For Revenge, people. Because this noisy vacuum-sucking noise he's making as the sun rises is not happening again. And I don't care whether he's actually vacuuming, or doing the willy dance. It must end.

It begins with a note, an anonymous note which I will mail so that there's no chance he sees me putting it in his mailbox, because I'm insecure and prissy that way. I won't be nasty, but I certainly will be to-the-point, because I think that's what Mr. I-Have-No-Life needs. It's past the time of niceties, folks.

Then, if that doesn't work, which I should know pretty quickly, I'll resort to flinging some of my dog's poops onto the roof of his van, again surreptitiously. Or, better yet, I'll get the kids to do it, because that's why we have children, isn't it?

And if that doesn't do the trick, I will have to resort to crime. I will steal that damn vacuum from his garage, because I know the code to open his garage door. Don't ask me how I know. I'll just say little boys have big mouths, and I have amazing interviewing skills.

And I will take said vacuum, being careful to stay away from the end of the hose because we all know what he's probably been doing with it, and I will get it professionally disinfected, and use it for our own car. Because we need a car vacuum, folks. And I don't want to wait any longer for a sale at Canadian Tire.

So, you see, stealing the vacuum would actually be sort of a community service, and therefore, not really a crime. In fact, people should, and will, thank me for doing it. And then we'll probably be invited to all the neighbourhood parties that happen all summer long, and that we never get invited to. In fact, maybe people will hold parties in my honour! Oh my god, guys, I can't believe this! What a great idea! Do you see how this tiny little problem is morphing into something really really big?

Oh, I can hardly wait! Maybe I should just skip the letter and dog poop flinging, and just steal the damn thing.