Storytime Humor
Stop Gaslighting Me with Your Abundance of Neighborly Love
Why can’t you be a dick like everyone else?
You know those neighbors who everyone enjoys and goes out of their way to engage with?
I am NOT one of those neighbors.
I’m not one of those bubbly people who shares baked goods for no good reason. The ones who take in your garbage cans without asking or shovel your driveway just to be kind. The ones who remember everyone’s name, including postal workers, your kids, and that girl you dated three years ago. The ones who lie in wait by the mailbox ready to pounce with idle chit chat.
I don’t have time for that.
When they’re out for a walk in the neighborhood they don’t even cross the street to avoid you, for God’s sake. They have the nerve to walk right up to you with a warm smile and the threat of a hug. They are simply bursting with stories of their grandkids, eager to trade in the currency of life’s little miracles.
It’s inhuman!
If you can remember the cholesterol levels from my last physical, surely you can remember how quickly I close the garage door, pretending not to see you. “Sorry, door only goes one way, wish I could stop it.”
Not.
I mean, I get it. You’re nice. But you’re sort of exhausting. Perpetual kindness can be hard to endure in the long run. Maybe you can take it down a notch. Save it for the visiting team. I know you keep a pitcher of lemonade chilling in the fridge just in case the missionaries show up. And a “secret stash” of Johnnie Walker Black Label for everyone else. If one of the kids hits a ball over your fence, you don’t just pitch it back over or give it to your dog, you clean it off and wrap it up for front door delivery. Along with more oven-fresh cookies.
Lock that shit down.
You’re making the rest of us look bad. Is that what you want? To shame us into being better people? Do you expect me to feel bad about that time I let my dog crap on your lawn and didn’t bother to clean it up? Ok, I don’t actually have a dog, but I could totally see doing that. And then feeling super guilty about it afterwards. Not that it matters. You’d probably just give the dog a treat, compliment him on his bowel movement and then offer to watch him next time I was out of town.
Who does that?
Look, try acting less likeable. That’s what people expect. That’s what we’re used to. Excessive goodwill towards your fellow man just makes people twitchy. You’re not doing us any favors with this unique brand of kindness you’re peddling. Try being a dick. It will make you more relatable.
If you get one of my letters in your mail, just burn it. Even if it looks important. Save yourself the trip.
Don’t watch over my house. That truck, backed up to my front door, loading only electronics — I probably know them. Don’t worry about it. If the house catches fire, let it burn. That’s what insurance is for.
Don’t invite me to your photoshoot for Better Homes and Gardens even if all the other neighbors already agreed to do candid endorsements. Trust me, you don’t want them asking my opinion of your sinister perfectionism.
In fact, a little open hostility wouldn’t kill you. Instead of organizing a holiday block party, hand out some of those eggs from your organic chicken coop and host a good egging of my house on Halloween night, when I turn off all my lights and pretend not to be home.
You know you want to.
That’s the real you after all. I can see right through you. I see what game you’re playing. I know, under that façade of charm lies something twisted. You’re like an enticing gingerbread house, luring in innocent fat kids so you can fire up their self-esteem and devour them with kindness.
I’m on to you.
You must be stopped before everyone succumbs to your abundance of neighborly love.
So begone spawn of Satan, with your hand-knitted scarves from hell and your gift baskets of evil charcuterie. Go pedal your mock sincerity somewhere else and leave the rest of us “normal folk” to live our indifferent lives without fear of judgement or guilt. Begone. Begone, I tell you!
Wait — are those the cinnamon spice cookies?
Okay, leave the cookies. Then begone.
