Good News For All My Girls--"Big Boy" Is Back, And Alive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              I was beginning to think, darlings, that I would end up on "Investigation Discovery."  Two weeks ago, at Citibank, I saw our crazy, upstairs neighbor, "Big Boy," smoking a cigarette with a "male companion," as they were going into the bank vestibule, to draw money from the cash machines.  And then he seemed to disappear.  After one week, I began to wonder if he was still alive.  I then began to harbor suspicions that he was buried underneath the wood chips that surround the flora and fauna of our courtyard.  However, yesterday morning, while setting off for work, who should pass us en route to the subway, but "Big Boy" himself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                The other possibility was he had gone to rehab.  "Big Boy" is a drinker, and his cheeks have those burst capillaries.  He is also one of the quietest neighbors either of us has ever had, which is great for us.  I am convinced he comes home to an apartment furnished only with a mattress, which is thrown on the floor, upon which he lies, then drinks, till he passes out. The place is probably strewn with bottles!!!!!!!!   But he sure is functional during the day.

                                                  When we first moved in, I called him "Mr. Mullet," because of his very dated, Seventies style mullet.  Then, somehow, that line from Philip Roth crept into my consciousness, around the time we discovered this guy was mortally terrified of living in such close proximity--right above--TWO HOMOSEXUALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Many a morning, we would leave for work, get on the elevator, hoping to go down, only it would go one floor up, to the sixth floor. This is because "Big Boy" was leaving, but, once he heard us, ran in fright down the stairs, so he would not have to be in the same elevator with us.

                                                      As if we would bite.  As if I would do anything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                       Which is when I began to use that line, as a way of helping him get in touch with his orientation.  I would stand by the stairs, evenings, and, in a voice that carries, would call out, "Oh, do it to me, Big Boy!  Oh shove it in me, Big Boy!  Big Boy! BIG BOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYY!" While hiking up my pants to show my Claudette Colbert legs, of course!!!!!  I am sure he was mortally paralyzed by this, yet, I know, while he was away wherever he was, he missed it.

                                                           And I have seen his worker uniform.  His name is "John."  Oh, he is a john, all right!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Bet there was lots of lickee lickee on that vacation!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                             But, girls, I missed "Big Boy!"  Now, that he is back, I can terrify him all I want!   But it is only to help him!

                                                              I am just glad he is not six feet under!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!