So school is almost over. Just three more days of session one. Thank the lord! No more idiocy for at least a few weeks…until session two starts anyway. This weekend was drama-rama filled. The parents are totally insane about the house. They decided tonight, after our basement started to flood, that we would take it off the market. So I guess I will be here for a while longer; at least a year, when they try again next summer. So now I’m completely confused. I have spent the past couple of months trying to divorce myself from the notion that the place I have grown up in for about as long as I can remember is my home. That and the fact that I would no longer be living in the DC area. So now I have 12 more months to get reattached then go through the same thing again! SWEET!
Anyway enough of the self-loathing. Thursday is going to be “Greg & Mike’s Get Drunk and Listen to Music Night.” If anyone can come up with a better or snappier name, I’m all ears. Then its camping somewhere with the guys over the weekend somewhere.
Now on to the juicy stuff. As some of you may know, Mike and a few others have dubbed Potomac the OC of the east coast. I, having gone to school there, see it as a bit of an overstatement but also admit the slight truth of those words. Now contrary to what Dave says I do not live in Potomac. I live in Chevy Chase. A slightly more sane locale not too far away. That was until two weeks ago. Apparently I not only went to school in the east coast OC but I live in the pop-culture equivalent of Wysteria Lane (a desperate housewives reference for the uninitiated). I did not make up what follows but have changed the names for the sake of the children.
There are two houses down the street from me. One is a lovely two story colonial in step with the style of much of the neighborhood. It has a modest yard that is always neatly trimmed and is owned by a French woman we shall can “Rene.” She has two children and was married until recently, when her husband stormed out a few months ago for reasons unknown. Just across the way is the other house in our sordid tale. It is a monstrosity of architecture and an alter to the McMasion. It is owned however by a nice family, three kids and a dog. A seemingly happy marriage between “Joan” and “Lloyd.” Here is where our story turns all the darker gentle readers. I advise those with a moral bone in their body to turn away and await more innocent and lighter posts. But if you persist I shall continue. To understand the story it should be known that the children of these demented souls all know each other and are play-friends around the streets we call home. And so the parents too know each other from the close knit nature of our sleepy burg. Upon arriving home from camp Joan’s daughter began to talk about Rene. Joan took all this as a bit of hero worship, as she was beautiful and mysterious and French. However the conversation with the daughter took an interesting turn when the girl remarked that Rene often frequented the house while Joan was away. But most of all that Rene way Lloyd’s special friend and that the girl was not supposed to “tell mommy about daddy’s friend.” In exchange for her silence the girl was given anything she wanted by Rene. The daughter being only seven had no clue as to what was really going on but I am sure that those who read on past you humble authors disclaimer need no explanation. So in a blind fit of rage our victim, Joan, storms over to her former friend’s house and precedes to beat at the door. To no avail however. She persisted so long that the police arrived on the scene in time to see Joan red faced and crying on the curb having been pulled away from her foe by another neighbor and friend. No charges were filed to my knowledge; however the husband and Rene have not been seen since the altercation. And the reason that Rene’s husband left her a few months ago? She had been cheating on him with these two biker-gang wannabes! Also, the Lloyd and Rene’s “liaisons” all occurred on Joan’s bed! All of which came out a bit later.
Yeah I know, screwed up right? Well if you think that was messed up check in next week for installment two of Desperate Housewives: Chevy Chase Edition.
Listening to: my neighbors and all the gossip floating around… to keep you entertained.