PRANKING THE POOR NEIGHBORS
Have you ever noticed that certain people tend to sort of go through life with a big “Kick me!” sign taped to their backs. There is just something about them that makes them fair game, almost irresistible targets for having fun at their expense. It isn’t that they are bad people, some of them are actually quite nice in their own, rather boring way, but they have an aura about them that just makes putting itching powder in their underwear something no one can avoid doing.
After the folks with the barking dog sold their house, a young couple moved in. They were nice, friendly, rather stupid and hopelessly, hopelessly niller. I mean their idea of fun was playing bean-bag toss in the back yard with their relatives and I even offered to find them a dwarf to use instead. They even had a New Year’s Eve party and everyone was gone by 3:30 in the morning and there was not a single beer can or cheap champagne bottle laying in their front yard.
These were very boring young people and they caused me to despair of an entire generation for a time.
Well, they moved in and like I said, they were very friendly. They always greeted me with great enthusiasm and I actually rather liked them. After all, they didn’t have a dog barking and three noisy children! But, like I said, they had this—er—quality about them that really made me want to have fun at their expense.
It was rather frustrating. I never was able to convince them that their house had termites. But one warm August evening I had my girlfriend over and we were sitting in the back room watching television when I heard my neighbors coming home through the open window. Possessed by mirth demons I said to my girlfriend, “Yelp!”
She let out with a little scream and then shouted, “Not the cattle prod again!”
I then responded, “Oh, stop complaining. I haven’t used the prod on you for two weeks!”
We kept up this conversation for some minutes for the benefit my neighbors and after they ran into their house we broke out laughing. It was great fun.
The next day I’m by my garage and I see my neighbors. They waved, somewhat less enthusiastically than usual and I waved back trying very hard to keep a straight face, which was very hard I’ll tell you!
I let them suffer for three months and then one day I told them of the prank we had played on them. They were greatly relieved.
Now, this little story is one of my favorites and one night when we made what proved to be our last trip to the psych class at College of DuPage in Illinois, the instructor was asking his usually annoying and rather asinine questions, this time concentrating on how people on the panel dealt with the possibility of the neighbors hearing something. So, when it came my turn, I said, before he could ask, “Consent does not apply to the neighbors,” and proceeded to tell this tale. It pretty much shut him up for the rest of the night.
geovisit();
Have you ever noticed that certain people tend to sort of go through life with a big “Kick me!” sign taped to their backs. There is just something about them that makes them fair game, almost irresistible targets for having fun at their expense. It isn’t that they are bad people, some of them are actually quite nice in their own, rather boring way, but they have an aura about them that just makes putting itching powder in their underwear something no one can avoid doing.
After the folks with the barking dog sold their house, a young couple moved in. They were nice, friendly, rather stupid and hopelessly, hopelessly niller. I mean their idea of fun was playing bean-bag toss in the back yard with their relatives and I even offered to find them a dwarf to use instead. They even had a New Year’s Eve party and everyone was gone by 3:30 in the morning and there was not a single beer can or cheap champagne bottle laying in their front yard.
These were very boring young people and they caused me to despair of an entire generation for a time.
Well, they moved in and like I said, they were very friendly. They always greeted me with great enthusiasm and I actually rather liked them. After all, they didn’t have a dog barking and three noisy children! But, like I said, they had this—er—quality about them that really made me want to have fun at their expense.
It was rather frustrating. I never was able to convince them that their house had termites. But one warm August evening I had my girlfriend over and we were sitting in the back room watching television when I heard my neighbors coming home through the open window. Possessed by mirth demons I said to my girlfriend, “Yelp!”
She let out with a little scream and then shouted, “Not the cattle prod again!”
I then responded, “Oh, stop complaining. I haven’t used the prod on you for two weeks!”
We kept up this conversation for some minutes for the benefit my neighbors and after they ran into their house we broke out laughing. It was great fun.
The next day I’m by my garage and I see my neighbors. They waved, somewhat less enthusiastically than usual and I waved back trying very hard to keep a straight face, which was very hard I’ll tell you!
I let them suffer for three months and then one day I told them of the prank we had played on them. They were greatly relieved.
Now, this little story is one of my favorites and one night when we made what proved to be our last trip to the psych class at College of DuPage in Illinois, the instructor was asking his usually annoying and rather asinine questions, this time concentrating on how people on the panel dealt with the possibility of the neighbors hearing something. So, when it came my turn, I said, before he could ask, “Consent does not apply to the neighbors,” and proceeded to tell this tale. It pretty much shut him up for the rest of the night.
geovisit();