The Nudists Next Door

This is clearly a departure from the typical flavor of this blog, but I can't keep it to myself (well, and my wife) any longer. 

My neighbors have no interest in either clothing or blinds and before you can ask, Nutella - I have no pictures but it DID happen.  It keeps happening.  And yes, I could stop looking but apparently I have no self control.

The back story on this is that the house next store is a rental property owned by a faculty member at the university who rents it out to graduate students.  I had spoken to him towards the end of last summer when he mentioned that our original neighbor (we moved in last March so she was the only one we knew) would be moving out and a couple with a dog would be taking her place.  "Nice people" he assured me.

Somehow in all the time they have lived here I have never seen them outside the house.  I'm not sure how this is even possible, but it's true.  I guess we keep different hours.  What I know for sure is that they like to prepare dinner at the same time that Yogi gets his bath.

I know this because a few months ago I was closing our blinds and noticed that there was a naked man cooking in the kitchen next door.  The whole thing was even weirder than you might imagine because of the relative angle of our windows.  From my upstairs vantage point I could see everything (and I do mean everything) but his head.  Now I don't think of myself as a peeping Tom,  but there is something about the fact that I knew for sure he couldn't see me and I couldn't really see him (at least not the important parts, but of course that is debatable) that allowed me to gaze a little longer than I might have otherwise.

I don't know if you've had this experience but it had the "just can't tear your eyes away" quality of a car wreck.  He was hardly a marvel of the human form, but watching someone chop vegetables while entirely naked is just something you don't see everyday.  At least not if you're me.

So the next door dinner routine has continued for months and practically feels like a part of bath time at my house. Sometimes it's her and sometimes it's him (I'm not sure why but they never seem to be in the kitchen at the same time),but it's almost always one of them.  I have never seen these people outside their house and I live in fear (this is only a tiny exaggeration) that I will run into them in the neighborhood.  I'm not sure if I've mentioned my Truth Tourette's (diagnosed by my wife), but if I see these people I don't know how I will keep from mentioning that I've seen them naked.  I think my only option is to run as fast as possible in the other direction.

Posted in: The Rest of Life