neighbours

Neighbours XVI

In the last episode, the tenants in Flat 12 were on their way out, thanks to their landlord selling up. She had accepted an offer, and the place needed to be vacated by May. But the sale fell through, and despite dropping the price by £10k, it remains unsold. The landlord of Flat 8 has sold though. Which is a huge shame, as we’d just gotten that tenant, Really Hot Girl, correctly trained in what can go in the recycling bin.

Really Hot Girl moved most of her stuff out yesterday in a removals van. A few bits and pieces she doesn’t want to take with her, have been left on the windowsill by the communal front door. This is the traditional place to leave stuff that might be wanted, or good use made of, by other residents in the block. There are quite a few DVDs there. I didn’t know people used DVDs anymore. I haven’t owned a DVD player for years.

Everyone will assume anything on the windowsill will have been left there by RHG. I’m tempted to amuse myself by adding a few items to the pile. A worn out sex toy. Some adult DVDs to complement the Gavin and Stacey series already there. Out of date condoms. A marijuana pot plant. Fluffy handcuffs. A few leaflets on home made bomb making. That sort of stuff.

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neighbours

Neighbours Part XV

Our block of flats has a new villain. It’s the new chap at Number 6. He moved in just four months ago, but he’s already demonstrated a selfish, inconsiderate streak. And the evidence is there, plain as day, for all to see. He won’t deny it either, as he doesn’t really seem to stop and chat to anyone. You might be wondering, what has happened. Well, let me tell you.

The other day, one of the girls of the block left a stack of Easter chocolate on the window sill by the entrance, along with a little note saying, ‘Free to a good home’. I grabbed a photo of some of it, which you can see above. I think it was Hot Lady at Number 8. I’m sure it’s her writing. And she’s been exercising a lot, so sacrificing a chocolate feast makes a certain amount of sense.

You can probably see where this is going. The whole lot disappeared. All of it. And a day or two later, all the empty boxes and wrappers appeared in the recycling bin, amongst the stuff thrown out by Number 6. You can see it’s Number 6 straightaway, because the Amazon boxes are all round them, delivery label side up. He didn’t even try and hide it. Heck, if I didn’t know better, it was his funny little way of bragging that he’d had it all.

You might be wondering, if there was still chocolate on the window sill when I took the photo, why didn’t I help myself to some? Oh I did. I took the lot. Every last egg and bar. And very tasty they were too. But I’m not silly. You don’t think I’d openly dispose of the evidence within my pile of recycling, do you??

I know. Crafty…

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neighbours

Neighbours Part XIV

There have been developments at our block of flats since the last episode of the Neighbours. Flat 12 has now sold, and it’s not been sold to a Buy to Let investor. So the longest standing couple in the block are having to move away, which is a shame. Flat 8 is now on the market, so the young lady there will also be seeking new accommodation.

The new girl in Flat 2 stopped me to chat yesterday. She’d been worried that her music might have been disturbing us. It turns out that she’s not been having too much luck with her new flat. The lights didn’t work when she first arrived, the gas hob then tried to electrocute her, there’s black mold on an internal wall and now she has carpet moths laying eggs under her feet.

Her music hasn’t been disturbing us – modern blocks have pretty decent sound proofing. The revelation that she has an infestation is a little disturbing though. She seems a nice enough person, but we find that we now like her best from a distance. Let’s say two metres, minimum. Which is convenient, because we can all pretend this is to do with the virus, not her bugs.

Today’s featured photo is a ten minute walk from home. Bournemouth Gardens follows the deceptively named* River Bourne from the sea to about a mile inland, where it disappears into an underground pipe**. The river runs right through this shot, but it’s out of view. You can see a bridge that crosses over it. And behind the bridge is the plague of homeless drug addicts that fester in the park. I know this is unkind of me. But. Well. Sometimes, I am unkind. I’m afraid they do not make good neighbours.

* it’s a stream, at best.

** of course it doesn’t. It appears from, not disappears into the pipe. Water runs to the sea, not from it. But most people will walk inland from the coast.

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