House #1: “I really don’t like the house to my left. Somebody up in there plays the Zydeco music like Jesus is coming every night. They leave crap in their backyard that really just needs to be thrown in a dumpster. And what the hell are they doing that makes everything smell like cabbage?”
House #2: “I really don’t like the house to my right. Just because his family had a little bit more money, he got 12-foot ceilings instead of 10, and now he thinks he is the god of everything. But let’s talk about the alcoholism going on over in that funky-cat chateau. If I had a nickel for every empty liquor bottle lugged out of that place my family could afford a third floor, and then we’d see who’s the boss. And don’t get me started on the tramp daughter that has banged her way through the phone book.”
House #3: “Girls, please. We all look like somebody who lost their teeth in a bar fight. What we really need is for some trendy folk to come up in here and flip our asses so we can be pretty again.”
House #1: “Flip our asses? I’m not sure I like the sound of that. What does it mean?”
House #2: “Maybe you should ask that daughter. Or at least read her reviews on Yelp.”
House #3: “Girls! This is not getting us anywhere. We’ve got to find a flipper or they’re going to condemn us and build another Starbucks, officially making that company the seventh largest country in the world.
House #1: “So now it’s a flipper? Like that dolphin TV show? I don’t like the smell of seafood. Of course, it’s not as bad as cabbage…”
House #2: “Enough with the cabbage! It’s a staple of my people. Why don’t you go suck on a bottle of gin and change the sheets for the next customer?”
House #3: “Okay, that’s it. I knew this neighborhood association was a bad idea when I started it five minutes ago. You two can sit there and bicker and I’m going to go find a nice gay couple who can flip me in an authentic but marketable manner.”
House #1: “Wait, so gay guys do the flipping? I might be interested in this after all.”
House #2: “Oh? So you’re a Nancy boy, are you?”
House #3: “Nancy boy? When were you born? 1912?”
House #1: “Actually, yes. We all were.”
House #2: “Built by the same developer. Didn’t you ever read your deed?”
House #3: “Well, I’ve done the deed. Many times. But I don’t think I ever read one.”
House #1: “Ah, hell. There’s a Code Enforcement officer walking this way, taking survey photos. We might be screwed.”
House #2: “We’d best shut up and not draw any attention to ourselves.”
House #3: “Good luck with that. You haven’t been able to squelch it for the last hundred years.”
Still, they quieted, and the street fell silent.
Except for echoing footsteps as the Code Enforcement officer crossed to the other side of the street and turned to take this picture.
Categories: Past Imperfect