Dear New Neighbors,
I am sorry. I am so SO sorry. My mother has these antiquated ideas about life, you see, and she just does not understand how it is these days, no matter how hard I try to educate her otherwise. I am truly ashamed for what she did to you and I simply do not know how I can go on. I greatly lament the fact you will now miss out on knowing the greatest creature to ever grace this universe: ME.
Condolences,
J. Kesgard
Famous Person
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Wracked with sadness & regret. |
BACKSTORY
The fact our neighbor of 23 years had moved out and sold her house was a frightening prospect. Who would buy the house? Would they know who I am? What presents would they give me in order to curry my favor? These were questions I just could not answer until I laid eyes on the people themselves. One day, I witnessed one of them quickly moving cleaning supplies into the house. I assumed he was the new owners' servant but I soon realized he may have been one of the owners himself as he had a
vampire baby with him.
We allowed the new residents to move in uninterrupted, as I would have liked them to be settled and focused when I sent over the brochure of gift baskets for them to choose from to give to me. Unfortunately, the day I was to send my publicist over, my live-in annoyance, Mommy Dearest, RUINED EVERYTHING.
Mother lives in the servants' quarters in my McMansion and decided to go outside without permission. She was putting something in the garbage can like a peasant and noticed the neighbors working on cars in the driveway. She approached like a tiger, slow and slinking but pouncing at the last second, uttering a terrible phrase I will never forget, "Hi, I'm Jan. I live next door."
The absolute nerve.
The new neighbor glanced at her for a second, said a quick, "Hi," and went back to working on his car. Mother stood there for a few moments, receiving no further acknowledgement, and finally walked off. Later, when my footballer husband was outside surveying a garden project, he attempted to introduce himself as well, and received a mere grunt. These two events destroyed my chance at becoming even more famous. At first I assumed these people would merely become my devotees, but from how they acted, it's clear they must be super famous people themselves and now we'll probably never snort coke off of a model together or anything!
I ventured outside to supervise* my husband's gardening supervision and looked over to the neighbors' house. The woman that lived there was now outside as well. She barely glanced at me in her chain smoking session; she was too busy associating with the male resident and a friend that came over wearing pajamas at two in the afternoon. When they were finished working on the cars, smoking, and listening to the baby wailing from inside the house, they hastened to disappear back into the domicile so I couldn't recognize them and call TMZ.
I can only assume their standoffishness was due to how famous they are, combined with how old fashioned my mother is. Back in the day, when you moved into an established neighborhood where most of the residents know each other, you'd welcome the new neighbors and everyone would introduce themselves. People used to like knowing who their neighbors were, so they could be friendly and look out for each other. Sadly, some of the other older residents on my street still insist on saying hello to me when they walk past. They even want to have whole conversations. The worst is when we actually step foot into each others' houses. I'm so sad these old neighbors haven't gotten the memo. Get with the now, people.
If my mother had listened to me, she would've known how to approach our new superstar neighbors: on hands and knees, eyes averted, pushing a carton of cigarettes along with her nose. When given permission to rise, she would then curtsy and kiss their rings. At that time, she'd then give them my publicist's card and she'd receive theirs in return. Someone's people would call someone's people, and then a few days later we'd be waking up in an infinity pool in Vegas, surrounded by champagne bottles and vomit. Now none of it will EVER HAPPEN. Now they will never know how super cool I am and we will never sext nudes to each other that will end up on The Dirty. They will never know what they are missing. I'm sorry. I'm just so SO sorry, new celebrity neighbors.
*If you are approached by someone insisting they have pictures of us digging up a stump, don't believe them. It's a lie!
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Here lies my neighbors' chance at knowing how fabulous I am. |