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My Neighbor

My neighbor consciously tries to make my jaw drop, I'm certain. He describes:

*The friend on Ozempic. "I tell this guy, you have to follow the doctor's orders. He eats a big heaping plate of pasta, he says, Oh, I can just double up on my diet pills, to atone....And I'm like, that's not how science works...."

*The child in transition. "I come home, she is in bed with her boyfriend, ostensibly watching TV. My husband gets worried about this; I say, don't you remember what it's like to be sixteen?" (Author's Note: I, Daniel, do remember that year of high school. I was home alone, watching PBS tributes to Sondheim.)

*The ideal Halloween. "I go to an Escape Room? But the facilitators are zombies and demons. They can't touch you. They can get really close. You have a clock, and you have to find an exit from this pitch-black dungeon--and you get, like, ninety minutes...."

My neighbor excuses himself; he is running a certain betting pool, and preparatory work needs to occur.

He races down my lawn. "Wish me luck with my daughter!" he calls. "God knows what I'll find when I get to the second floor...."
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