Jeepers Creepers

I've got a Peeper.

Yesterday, I got to meet the one neighbor, who live the other way--opposite all those mangy kids. He's definitely a little swishy, but that's not all. Oh, no, that's not all!

I met him because I noticed he was mowing the teeny tiny yard of Damien's house. He kept looking at me (sitting on my front porch, smoking, talking on the phone.) Then I noticed he was mowing the welcome mats at the house immediately behind the slumhouse. I decided to go find out just-exactly who he was and just-exactly what he was doing. He pointedly asked me if I was on the phone earlier when he was mowing at the slumhouse.

For no reason whatsoever, he told me his address repeatedly before telling me his name. During the course of the conversation, he pulls out his wallet (think George Costanza) and hands me his drivers license. Apparently, years--no, decades--of attracting freaks has inured me to their freakiness, because all I could think to say was, "Oh. Nice." and hand the thing back. Thinking about it today, he's probably licking the finger sweat/oil from where I touched it.

I finally escape, and am filing my latest and greatest (yesterday's post.) There's the doorbell--and it's Mr Jeepers. Says he came over to just tell me how cute and adorable my house is. Not the outside, the inside. He's really really clear on this point. My response? "What, are you peeping in my windows?" and laugh. His body language says he's horribly intimidated, but he can't bring himself to leave until he's told me this most important secret: (no, he didn't admit to being escaped from the Booby Hatch) zip codes, and city limits; how they interact and impact on the realities of his current address.

In all honesty, I'd be less disturbed if he were wearing a tinfoil business suit carrying an umbrella named June. I'm certain that he's the guy who sometimes walks in front of my house and just stands there, staring at my house.

Um, yeah. I don't think he's a pedophile--he's never out and about (or wandering, mowing, or staring) when the kids are all amok in the world. But now, I wonder if he came over and complimented my house in some weirdass effort to gain entry.

Jeepers Creepers, I gots me a Peeper.