We've Got A Jew Problem On One Side & A Muslim Problem On The Other

Us in the Middle

Jews to left of us

Muslims to the right of us.

It's a weird kind of set up. Jews from Israel bought the house on one side of us. The next thing that happens is our neighbor on the other side of us for fifty years up and died. In moved a Muslim family from Iran. They both speak their native tongue.

The Jews like to argue in their backyard in Hebrew. Loud and clear so that no one has a problem knowing their at it again. They don't worry, they're the only Jews around for four houses at best on either side. Hispanics live next to them on the other side that you only hear the sound of children playing and birthday parties. Really wonderful to hear in the neighborhood--I think, families having fun with kids doing what kids do is music in the night.

But even with the laughter of children, the Jews go outside to smoke cigarettes and scream at each other in a language that is guttural. Like chewing rocks, the words come out in a crushing avalanche of hate. Their rage  ascends like a holocaust to a long lost god. It's a daily affair with the Jews that when they come home from work to pleasure themselves they hurl angry screams at each other.

The Muslims are another story. They don't scream at each other very much. Once in a great while, but what family doesn't at some point when shit hits the fan. They do though have other quirks. At first we were both friendly with each other. I introduced myself, they did as well, but though I invited them into our home, they haven't. Worse, they left me to stand at the front door without opening it. I had brought them produce from our garden. When they came knocking on our door, I let them in showed them our house, took them outside where they fell in love with the garden, commented on it quite a bit. So, when I saw them go into their house one day shortly after, and knew they were home, I knocked on their door just as they did on ours. They left me standing there with organic grapes freshly picked, and choice clusters at that. I could hear activity inside and so knocked again a bit louder. Nothing. It was loud enough to let them know someone was at the door. After some time, and feeling embarrassed, I left to walk across the street to really wonderful neighbors, the wife Czechoslovakian, her husband Filipino and knocked. They opened with smiles and gratitude for the wonderful grapes locally grown and pleasantries passed about what was going on with their kids and the hood. Wonderful people.

Then one day I saw the Muslim husband when I was watering the front and said, hello. He did as well, asking how we were. I told him fine and that I had grapes for him if he liked, that I had knocked at his door a few days ago but apparently to busy to answer.

"If I want something from you, I will let you know," he answered.

I got the picture. He found out we are gay with the tour of our home. Muslims from Iran, even the college educated, are profoundly homophobic. And it works for me, we smile, nod our heads if pressed to acknowledge one another and that's it.

"No grapes for you Jihad warrior."

Here's another thing. The Muslim mother, they had a child after this, complained to me about the chickens making noise disturbed her Jihad terrorist brat from his nap. I have five hens in the very back of the property next to the alley. Much further from their house than what the law allows. They are well maintained and do make a clucking sound in the morning but they are hens and don't crow. They make a call many times, not all times, after laying an egg or startled for some reason. I told her there wasn't much I could do, but I would try. They complained to our gardener that he made too much noise. Not their gardener, our gardener and he asked if he could come on another day, I said not if he wanted to keep the job, he gardens the front on Fridays and both theirs and our gardener show up just hours apart on the same day.

Okay, two can play the game. I complained about the brat when he went into screaming fits in their backyard. I complained loud, over the fence so everyone could hear it. No fucking knocking because they don't answer, I do but they don't. And that's another thing. The next time their Jihad ass show up at the door, I'm not answering either. They don't complain to me anymore and they don't knock on the door.

Mike, across the street and two houses up hates them. They fly an Iranian flag, not an American flag. In fact, they turn out all the lights on Halloween even though they are home. Cheap fuckers too apparently.

And the Jews? Lazy is one term that comes to mind. Anytime an ad paper falls on their driveway, they toss it on our property. And now they are putting their trash barrels in front of our garage in the alley so they don't have to pick up the fucking trash that falls after the trucks come and empty them. They are in for a surprise. One more time of that shit and I'm hauling their fucking trash containers down the alley to some distant house. Let's see if that shit happens again.

If it is war these fucking Middle Easterners want then so be it. The rainbow colors don't run anymore.