The family who bought the house just up the road from ours clearly didn't understand the nature of Snotty Suburb.
First of all, the guy drives a metallic blue BMW.
Gross.
The wife, who we all see being yanked hither and yon by their six-month-old Golden Retriever puppy, is simply never going to fit in.
Seriously - if she can't keep her dog under control, there is no way she's got the right stuff for Snotty Suburb.
No sooner had they were moved in before the tree clearing began.
The buzz of saws (on Saturday, always on Saturday - when the Planning Commish isn't working)didn't stop until the whole damn world could view the enormousness of the house these wanna-bes plunked down their dough for -
live oaks, laurelwood, maples - all mown down to nothing.
Ahem - they didn't receive permits from Snotty Suburb Planning Commisioners for their Paul Bunyon-esque stunt, either.
They're already sued Snotty Suburb over redlining their project.
Way to make friends in the new 'hood, homie!
So now it's time for their POOL!
Their SPA!
Their ADDITION TO THE EXISTING HOUSE!
The TERRACING OF THE ALREADY FRAGILE AND PRONE TO SLIDES HILLSIDE!
They won't STOP UNTIL THEY'VE G'D THE PLACE BEYOND REDEMPTION!
And it is hella G already.
(Which is exactly what I plan to say if ever forced to hold a conversation with them.)
Whether they realize it or not, now begins the social shunning.
They never were part of the neighborhood, after all.
Just this morning the wife drove past as I walked up the road.
I kept my head down - and didn't look up till she was several houses past me.
When one of their more immediate neighbors stopped to chat the other day,
he told me, "Yeah. They're the 'Pimp My House' family."
I'm pretty sure they have no idea how huge the impact of those words, coming as they do from one of the friendliest fellows on the road.
After all, this is an area of quiet confidence, not splashy ego.
Ain't nobody else around here driving a metallic blue anything.
Not even a mountain bike.
