It’s been more than six months since the last episode of Neighbours. I didn’t leave you with much of a cliffhanger, and not an awful lot has changed since. The nice couple in No 12 are still there, because the landlord still hasn’t managed to sell their flat. It’s going back on the market in the new year. So they say.
I have now found out the sale price of the flat next door at No 2, though. It was sold by a bank after they repossessed it from the previous owner. Worth at least £175k when sold through an estate agent. But someone has got it for a song at auction. He/she paid just £128k. It’s let out to tenants again, currently a young girl who seems rarely to be there.
There is also a new chap in No 5. A hipster dude bruh type guy, who is really struggling to get the hang of how to use the communal bins correctly. I’m also convinced he is gay. I’ve never spoken to him, but everything about him and his flat just screams gay. There’s nothing wrong with him being gay, of course. It’s just an observation.
Do you think it’s possible, sometimes, to tell someone’s sexuality just from how neatly trimmed a beard is, interior decor and funny little habits? I’ll wager £5 with any takers that you can. Truth be told, our block is rather lacking any diversity. If he can just get to grips with recycling, he’ll be a welcome addition to the building.
Neighbours can be people who live in the block, live in adjacent properties or who simply live in, or perhaps just loiter around, the neighbourhood. Take the bloke in the photo, for example. He’s new to the ‘hood. I have seen his mates any times, but not him. Until today. He’s looking around nervously, because I’m messing with his brain. How so? I’ll explain.
The road our flat is on is a dead end. But you can walk off the end into town’s gardens, right next to the tennis courts and underneath the underpass. There’s a multitude of paths leading to and from that point. It’s dry. It’s perfect for selling drugs. Which is why you’ll often find gatherings of unsavoury persons there. Waiting for their dealer. You can almost feel the anxiety in the air.
The dealer arrived and distributed his goods while I happened to pass. The group immediately dispersed, each going their own way. The guy in the photo went my way, just ahead of me. I was making him nervous. Taking discreet-ish photos made him more nervous still. Twisting my collar to my mouth and whispering into it? Oh, that sent him into overload. He ran for dear life into the multi storey car park.
Was that a bit mean of me? Don’t worry. I went straight down to the lower gardens to feed the squirrels and even out my karma score. It’s all good again….