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The Lesbians Next Door

Wifesy and I believe that we have lesbians living next door.  And, no, this is not some kind of existential reference to ourselves.  Next door, technically across the hall, are what we believe to be another duo of lesbians.

 

We could be wrong, but our gaydar says we are right.

 

The thing is – they are quiet lesbians, so we are not really sure.  A couple of times, Wifesy and I have tried to strike up a conversation with the maybe-lezzie ladies.  It usually goes something like this:

 

Wifesy or me approaches the maybe-lesbians as they get on the elevator.

 

Me or Wifesy:  “It’s hot out.”

 

Maybe-lezzies:  “Yep, it’s hot.”

 

Me or Wifesy:  “Good thing there’s a pool here.”

 

Maybe-lezzies:  “We don’t go in it.  Too many kids.”

 

And then the conversation dies a horrible death when, really, all Wifesy and I want to yell is:  “ARE YOU GIRLS GAY?  ARE YOU GAY?  WE DON’T CARE ABOUT THE FECKIN’ POOL, WE WANT TO KNOW IF YOU ARE GAY!!!”

 

Now, of course, it doesn’t matter if they are gay.  But, it is quite a cowinky-dink.  The gays only comprise around 2% of the population and somehow we’re living right next to one another.

 

This happened to us once before and it was an even bigger mind blower.  Wifesy and I were living in Edinburgh, Scotland.  Edinburgh by city standards has a population of only about 500,000 or so.  We lived in a small, middle income community, and for the longest time – living right next door – were hetero couples.  One couple had a baby and moved out, the other couple had a fight, broke up, and took two separate u-hauls to their new separate places.  Then a woman moved in.  She was a bit older than us and she ALWAYS had another woman over.  She was over so often that we thought they both lived there together.  The women had two matching, ENORMOUS, dogs.  They looked like this…

Apparently, this is a leonberger, which means huge, feckin’, dog in German.

 

Now, these two woman were doing it lady-style.  We weren’t guessing this time.  We could hear them, through our adjoining walls.  They did it so often that Wifesy and I started to look at each other as if to say, “Are we not doing it enough?”  It started to feel like a competition.  We were like, “The chubby lesbians, next door, they did it 5 times this week.  Maybe we need to buy some more candles and easy listening music.  You know, to set the atmosphere for more “practice” sessions.”  Hey, practice makes perfect.

Imagine these bears staring at you while you make love. I find it too judgmental.

 

So, the lesbos next door are doing it like lady-rabbits with their leonbergers watching, I’m guessing.  One day, when all was quiet for a change next door, I go outside with my little dog and their big dog promptly tries to eat her through the fence.  I skillfully stop the carnage and the other lez and I manage to strike up a conversation.  I’m saying things like, “My partner this…, Wifesy that, etc.”

 

 

And the woman says to me….“My friend and I.”  And I’m thinking, YOUR WHAAAAAT???!!!  She went on and on, openly professing that her and the other lady of the house were “just friends.”

 

Oh, good god.  I know, everyone has to come out on their own terms, but SHE-SUS CHRIST, these women were in their 40s and when they skipped the light fandango it was louder than a Memorial Day parade.

 

COME ON!!  Who did they think they were fooling?

 

It drove me so crazy that I wanted to audio record their love making and then take my boom box next door.  I’d ring the bell and when they came to the door, I would hit play and raise the stereo over my head like John Cusack in the movie, “Say Anything.”

 

The stereo would play the sound of two birds simultaneously singing and attacking each other violently.  Sorry, but that’s what it sounded like.

 

 

Then I would say calmly, “This…?!  This is how you treat your FRIEND??!!  I wouldn’t treat my friends like this, finger-blasting them until the cows come home.”

 

The fellow tortilla-slapper would stand at the door, gob smacked, while I made my point — Don’t lie about your gay to your gay neighbors who can hear you through the freakin’ walls!  It’s simple, really.

 

We may never know about our neighbor-ladies, currently, across the way because they are not very talkative and we can’t hear a thing through the walls.  And I try.  I frequently take Wifesy’s stethoscope across the hall and hold it up to their door.

 

There is no real point to this post other than it’s interesting that you can live right next door to people and not know a thing about them.  OR – quite the opposite – you feel like you’re in bed with them.

 

What about you?  Any awesome neighbor stores to share?

 

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Photo creds:  neighbors-feature, leonbergers, johncusack

 

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43 thoughts on “The Lesbians Next Door

  1. Moms, this is so funny. I can see you with your stethoscope — hope they don’t ever answer the door. Write a post about that — all sorts of hilarity would ensue. You could look at it this way: when there’s nothing on TV, you’ve got the ladies next door to amuse you — your imagination at least. Way more interesting than the Olympics I think. :). How do you know it’s only two percent? Did you do a poll? Do gay people have hetero-dar? Just curious.

    1. i know all of these stats about gay people in the u.s. due to research for my book. it’s actually UNDER 2%. what’s amazing is that people THINK it’s way more. i’ll talk about that in another post, but it’s endlessly fascinating. as for the heteroday i think we’re ALL born with a version of that! lol. glad you read it, briges. xo, sm

    1. i’m not sure i know how gaydar works either! but, i do think they probably are. they are painfully shy though, so i’m trying not to scare them. lol. much love, lil miss, much love. xo, sm

    1. – throw them into a dsw and see if they come out with a comfortable shoe?
      – play an indigo girls song and see if they start humming along?
      – send them a card with an all expenses paid trip to held on a cruiseliner in the company of angelina jolie, all they gave to do is send back this simple postcard…see if they send postcard…

      okay, will stop. tired now. lol. xo, sm

      1. So the whole thing about the Indigo Girls song? That’s totally how the first lesbian I met in the Air Force sniffed me out. I was staying up all night on dorm-watch or some other such ridiculous thing and she was sitting in the stairwell on her three-hour make sure the girls don’t go to the boys floor and vice-versa (as-if) shift and she asked me to take her place for a moment. She left and came back with a guitar and started playing the girls…and I promptly fell in love. :)

  2. I have a visual of you with the stethoscope held up to their door intently listening and of course the door opens up and you stumble in to find them in … I don’t know… whatever position would confirm to you your suspicions.

    1. looooool. that would at least be worthy of another post… how would they open the door from said position tho…it would have to be one of those electronic doors… anyway, semantics. ;) xo, sm

  3. I had a hetero couple upstairs from me once. They were both singularly unattractive people, and I was treated to the sound effects of their sexual escapes on a nightly basis. I don’t know what pissed me off more, the fact that they were getting some and I wasn’t, or the fact that I couldn’t erase the mental image of these two uglies bumping uglies. And I can’t believe the women next to you in Scotland didn’t just come out to you and Wifesy. WTF? As for the chicks next to you now, is their car a Subaru? Because that’s one of the ways I usually tell.

  4. Sorry I didn’t comment sooner. Still wiped out from Friday.

    I went to Chik Fil A dressed like a white version of Medea, hoping for a chance to find a hot lesbian to make out with at the witching hour. Needless to say, no one – gay, straight or bi – find any sex-appeal in a white Medea. It’s not easy finding pumps in my size, and that flowery dress added pounds to my figure, but even so…I thought as least one lonely militant girl from the Isle of Lesbos woulda wanted to swap a little spit to show those corporate bigots what happens when you mess with the rainbow flag coalition.

    No action, no kissing, nothing! I got a broiled chicken sandwich value meal with the waffle fries and a diet cola, then went home.

    I guess you could have tailed your neighbors to see where they had lunch, but that strategy might have failed, like it would have here.

  5. I couldn’t do it with those bears staring and probably heavily panting. My neighbors are old people who bring me tomatoes. I lucked out!

  6. No neighbor sex stories, but my next door neighbor works in the CSI dept for our local police. I get lots of good dead body stories. :)

  7. We have fab neighbours. On one side is our 40-something divorcee who has 20 year old identical twin sons. She is great and we regularly have a chat across the drive way or over a glass of wine. On the other side is a late 50 something couple with two kids in university. One night while we were out our house alarm went off. Our neighbourly neighbour phoned us to say he had heard a noise in our yard and peeaked over the wall but couldn’t see anything. When we got home after midnight we tried to get our useless security company to escort us onto the property bit the weren’t answering the phone. So our dear awesome neighbour came to check our house out with us before we went in.

    How awesome are our neighbours?

    We also live in a close-knit community who do community patrols and we have a street braai (bbq) twice every summer where we close off our street and everyone brings food to share. At the last one the Asian family two houses down bought a massive bowl of sushi. It was good. People in our street greet each other and wave. It is a little Stepford. LOL

  8. Excellent post. Mumsy ! :)
    When I was working in London for a few months I rented a flat in Notting Hill and the (het) couple upstairs were, shall we say, quite active. It was a screaming hot summer so lots of people were sleeping with the windows open, and the summer wasn’t the only thing that was screaming!!!
    Many a time I imagined looking out of the window to see lights coming on all down the street, just like The Flintstones when Fred’s been locked out and is banging on the door shouting “Wiiilllllmmmmaaaaaa !!!!!…….”
    Sometimes I’d bump into them as we were all leaving for work in the morning and I’d just smile sweetly. :)

    1. And the figure for 100% gay might be only 2%, but I bet the figure for bi, bi-curious, or “dunno what I am but once had really good rumpy pumpy with my room-mate at college and loved it” is waaaaay higher.

      1. bwwwaaaahhhhhaaa, WAY higher indeed. that’s what all the stat collectors say actually that it’s very hard to classify who is gay…unless of course people go, ‘i’m gay’ and fill out a bunch of census forms about it, but how many people do that…

  9. Wait a minute, 98% of the population has their knickers in a twist over how 2% of the population is going to subvert them? Seriously? Gays/Lesbos must have some powerful mojo! xoM

  10. I wouldn’t treat my friends like this, finger-blasting them until the cows come home.” I wish I had friends like that. :-P

  11. I have lived with close neighbors for years. Twenty-seven years ago my dead ex booked a cruise with 5 couples from the dead-end we lived in, Gad what a disaster of a trip. Thankfully I had more money than him or anyone else, whenever I wanted to escape them I took myself to the casino and played Blackjack, we separated directly after that trip; it was kinda a Brad/Jennifer moment only with RedNecks.

    Last time I lived in an apartment my downstairs neighbor was obviously heartbroken, left at the alter or something. For weeks he would play the same song over and over again, with his doors and windows wide open. It was so bad I gave my young sons permission to throw spit balls at him whenever he was out on his deck directly below me.

    This was the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlPScxgeggU

  12. “The stereo would play the sound of two birds simultaneously singing and attacking each other violently. Sorry, but that’s what it sounded like.” Ha! I would have paid cash money to witness that.

    We used to live in a really large apartment building and there was a really loud couple that would do it with the windows open about .. oh… 3 times a day. Serious stamina. The acoustics were such that everyone on one side of the building could hear it, but no one ever figured out where it was coming from so everyone used to just eye each other suspiciously (or enviously) in the elevator.

  13. I used to live in an apartment above the loudest, most hateful couple in Philly. Their arguments made me laugh silently until I cried, or just cry because it was 3 am and I just wanted to sleep. I remember once, the man came home late and the woman accused him being high. He denied it. She said, “I can see it in your eyes! Your f*cking bloodshot eyes!” And he said, –and I still say this to this day– “No, no…. I swear it! I swear on my daughter’s eyes!”

    And on New Year’s Day, the man yelled joyfully first thing in the morning, “Woohoo! Happy New Year!” and the woman yelled back, “I f*cking hate you!”

    And when the man left for the work, at least once a week the woman would sing “Come to My Window” at the top of her lungs, over and over.

    The apartment was so wonderful otherwise.

    1. ok, that is both hilarious and cray-cray. i would’ve lost it on them. i’m like a nazi about noise, i think, sometimes. i’m always talking to the neighbors about it. thankfully, my current apt is pretty quiet. they sound nuts!

  14. When I was a single baby dyke, I lived next door to lesbians that had crazy wild sex. Complete with spanking action. I used to sit on our stoop (which was conveniently right underneath their bedroom window) and wish. I could smoke a cigarette without choking. :p

  15. I love that story! I have a pretty good neighborly sex story as well.

    My sister and I were living below a couple of single lady roomates. They were nice and quiet for the most part. One night I awoke to my bed and the walls shaking. I swear I thought there was an earthquake and I was going to die until I heard loud female wailing and moaning. One of them was having sex so violently that it was shaking my fucking room! That definately crosses a line. It woke my sister up too (I mean, how could it not?) so she stood on her bed and hit the ceiling until they stopped. I have no problem with neighbor sex but was that really necessary???

  16. We had neighbors upstairs who pretended they were just friends. Meanwhile I could hear their sex toys going off, and them talking dirty to each other about the Lillith Fair (is that even still going on?)

    Shortly afterwards they’d fight, there would be tears, and then a lot of reassuring and making up. Over and over and over. It was like a friggin’ Telenovela, but a lot less slapping.

  17. The day after Whitney Houston died, I heard my downstairs neighbour listening to her, on repeat, and crying, audibly.
    I assume he hears me having lesbian sex occasionally. Should he ever ask, I shall tell him that us gays make up about 10% of the population, not 2%. If he listens to Whitney Houston that avidly, however, he probably already knows.

  18. Love it.

    I seem to always have good and boring neighbours around. Meh :/

    ps. do the new couple know you are gay? maybe say that to them first?

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