Last year
when winter swept the streets of Melbourne and I was washing the dishes by the
kitchen window, a sudden movement disturbed my peripheral vision’s tranquillity.
It caused me a minor heart attack, which ended in another sad case of plate
suicide.
There was someone at my window.
A minute later, my slow-to-react brain cells figured that the man wasn’t actually at my window but rather sitting in his own apartment in a different building altogether. It was just that up until that day my kitchen view was dominated by a huge green tree with thick, thriving green leaves and parrots and a nice, handwritten title saying - “life in the country is fab.” Problem is, I’m not living in the country and with the winter stripping my tree buck-naked – I realised again one of urban living true horrors – neighbours at my window.
They are two meters away, they are weird looking people and they can watch every move you make. Here are a few of ours.
UGLY NAKED GUYS
Like in Friends, everybody has their own ‘ugly naked guy’. We had two. Again kitchen window – this
time in Tel Aviv. My Russian bear (Igal) was nonchalantly cooking a
stir-fry when he spotted a hairy bum gazing back at him. Appetite lost, I was
called to the window to spot the hairy creature myself. I put on my I’m-just-checking-the-weather
look and took a glimpse at his other full fur side. After a minute or two,
another prime ape joined and in a naked harmony they made dinner.
From that day on, I needn’t have to
sneak a peek to experience the wilderness right at my window. Whenever I walked
into the kitchen there they were - two naked dudes bending over to clear the
dishwasher, squatting to pick a tomato off the floor, shaking their bum bums to
the beat.
THE GOLDEN AGE AUDIENCE
We were invited to our friends’ place
one weekend for a Sunday brunch and a movie. Little did we know that we were
the leading actors in this feature film. Our audience, consisted of three
elderly neighbours, sat in their front row seats on their balcony across from
our friends’ living-room window (only 2m away!). They had their refreshments ready
and were super excited as they watched us perform.
THE ASIAN STALKER
THE ASIAN STALKER
“Oh my god,” I called Bear on the
phone to let him know that “I have a weird Asian guy stalking me from the
next-door building”. Our apartment is all windows on both sides, but living in
the unusual third floor (it’s Melbourne after all, third floor is considered to
be a skyscraper in the suburbs) always gave me the illusion that I am free to
do as I please without being watched.
“Nobody is following you,” Bear
reassured. I thought otherwise. The dude was glued to the window, not moving at
all. I felt trapped in a glass cage. Whichever way I went (living room,
bedroom, there’s not much else) he was there glued straight to the window. Who
does such a thing? He didn’t budge so I had to squat and crawl so he wouldn’t
see me. So was the case the next day, and the next.
Until one day I hid behind a
curtain, and I watched HIM. A-ha! Stupid me, by looking closely I realised he
wasn’t glued to the window at all; he just had his computer screen fixed right
underneath the window and so had to sit right there. Probably was chatting with
his friends saying there’s a weird looking chick watching him from behind a
drape…
THE INTELLIGENCE OFFICER
In the city a good positioned
window equals power. Intelligence. And who better to collect information and
spread it around than my dear mum. I’m sooo happy I don’t have her or her
deputy Mrs. Window-box as my window neighbour; bending over the window barrier,
wearing her flowery nightgown, watching the passers by, listening to the voices
coming out of the windows and every now and again calling out to someone she
knows.
And I failed to mention the coughing dude, the piano man and the moaning
slut. All were my window neighbours. So, who were yours?
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Illustration by Igal Hodirker
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