An Open Letter to My New Neighbor

I don't like you.

I know that may sound strange, seeing as how you have not yet moved into the house next door to mine, and I have never met you, or even laid eyes upon you for that matter. Nevertheless, I have calculated the odds of you and I hitting it off as neighbors, and they are lower than a hammock holding Richard Simmons' fitness club.

It's only fair that I list the reasons why. Please don't take it personally.

First, I don't appreciate losing my old neighbor. I liked him. He lets my dog eat his grass. He's friendly, easygoing, and quiet. Everything you would want in a neighbor. Most importantly, he has never hung any wind chimes. And that is BIG in my book.

Second, you are young. I know this because I hear through the grapevine that you're related to the lady who owns the house. Specifically, you're her kid. My neighbor's getting the boot just so you can move in. Truth be told, I prefer my well-worn baby boomer neighbor who never blares a stereo and hasn't uttered the word "party" in over 30 years except when discussing politics. The loudest noise he's made in nine years was when he accidentally slammed the lid down on his gas grill once.

Third, but most importantly -- YOU'RE FREELOADING OFF YOUR MOTHER!!! Being a mother myself, that's sort of a sensitive issue with me. A bit of motherly advice? Find your own apartment. You and I both know that this sort of mother/landlady/son/tenant arrangement rarely works out. You never want your mother to have the keys to your house, let alone OWN IT! Wise up, man!

Fourth, I never liked your mother. She made us pay for the muffler on her noisy furnace. Don't get me started.

Fifth, I'm too old to start a new neighbor. I'm not as friendly as I used to be, to begin with. And now I have to pretend to be nice to some young, freeloading whippersnapper who could very likely have multiple body piercings. Not to mention a surround sound stereo system.

You see? This just isn't going to work out. I'm grumpy. I'm set in my ways. And my dog barks at the cats that are currently living under your/mom's house.

Trust me, you won't like it here. There's the new skateboard park across the golf course with its constant clatter. Then there are the golfers constantly coming into your yard looking for their bad shots. Not to mention the cursing coming down the fairways. I mean, this neighborhood isn't exactly Wysteria Lane.

And did I mention your mother has the keys?!

Signed,

Not Exactly Mrs. Rogers