Mr. Post Writes to His Neighbor

Dear Mrs. Branch,

My name is Mr. Post, and I am your neighbor.

We've never officially met, but I've waved at you several times from over my fence while you were watering your roses.

Coincidentally, you over-water them.  I don't know if you're aware of that, but it's something I've noticed.

I've also noticed the...what's a good word for it...monstrosity you swim in.

I have nothing against a 'pool' but that thing takes up half your backyard and for some reason, it is shaped like a...like a...a rear, Mrs. Branch.

Did you mean for your pool to resemble someone's backside?

I would hope not, but nevertheless, it does.

Imagine how I feel every brisk summer morning when I step outside to take in the new day's air only to see a giant behind staring at me.

Watching you swim in it is even worse.  Really, Mrs. Branch, I realize that it's your yard, but a fence does not prevent the people that live on either side of you from seeing you doing laps in your pool wearing nothing but a swim cap.  And since your other neighbor, Mr. Otson, is blind and has filthy windows, I'm really just talking about me here.

And your nephews and nieces, Mrs. Branch--At least, I can only assume they're related to you.  Perhaps one of your hobbies is allowing loud, obnoxious children from every neighborhood in a five-mile radius to play around your house while you sit in your living room and pretend their antics don't bother you.  Meanwhile, they're outside performing their live rendition of Lord of the Flies.

Do you even check to make sure you send back as many kids as you take in?  I once saw a little boy get shoved underneath your porch and seven hours later he was still under there.  I suppose he could have crawled out from the side of the porch but I can't see that side from my window, and as a result, I couldn't sleep that night.

Finally, every year on Christmas time, you put up so many lights, I'm surprised your house doesn't pop up on photos from space.  How can that many lights be necessary?  I enjoy the holidays as much as the next anti-social atheist, but must you celebrate them by producing more light than the Las Vegas strip?

Mrs. Branch, these things have made it downright impossible for me to be your neighbor.  Every day living next to you presents another obstacle towards my happiness.

What I'm trying to say is...

If you would like to get dinner sometime, I'd be happy to rustle up a little something at my house.  I think it's terrible that we've never gotten to talk about any of this face-to-face.

Perhaps afterward we could go for a swim in your pool?

I look forward to reading your response.  If you need me, I'll be in my yard putting up a 'Do Not Trespass' sign.

Sincerely,
Mr. Post