Wherever I'm working, I like to take a walk during lunch. In the past that's meant a walk around a studio lot, or the neighborhood of the building, whatever. Thankfully, for the last handful of years, it's been my own neighborhood. For better or worse, all these years later I still don't know a lot of my neighbors. Well, not on a first-name basis, but I can easily identify some of them with things like "that's the guy with the house with 4 cars out front" or whatever.
At one end of my street, on the east side, lives (apparently) an older couple. If I've ever seen them, I don't remember them at all. What I do know is, on nice days (75% of the time) their front door is open. That wouldn't mean anything if it wasn't for the fact the 2 of them speak comically LOUD to each other. You can't see through the screen door, but you don't need to. In the ~15 seconds I'm walking past this house, you can hear a lot of confusion.
Old Lady: "WAIT! Is it April or is it TUESDAY?"
I don't know, ma'am, nor does the man inside. This line wasn't said with stress so much as it is more a plain statement. The inflection and words chosen does indicate a question, of course...at least I think so.
This past Fall saw quite a surprise as I turned back on my street:
(A loud crash is heard from inside their home)
Old Man: "What was that?"
Old Lady: "BEEF FAJITAS!"
Thankfully, they didn't hear my sudden burst of laughter, or if they did, I'll never know. For most times when I walk past this house, this isn't anything I seek out, yet it's almost as if it seeks me, knowing that it's serendipity: there's more out of context gems ahead.
Old Lady: "That's when she was at the BAR. And she HELD ON TO THAT THING. And it was HARD."
When I remember to do so, I bring this up to the neighbors I know. It brings a laugh, but they don't know them either. Or they offer some sort of vague detail like "I think they had someone living in their garage for a while" which only invites more questions. I've realized that if I did know additional details, it probably wouldn't be that fun anymore.
Old Man: (coughs loudly)
Old Lady: What?!
Old Man: Huh?!
In those moments of peace to clear my head in a workday, there's the sounds of birds chirping, the sights of flowers in bloom, a dog here and there, and this house in a constant, nearly urgent state of flux. Back to work I go, thankful for out of context humor once again.
