Go away, smiley guy
Somewhere to the west of me, there lives a smiley guy. He is probably about 50 (though with English aging that could mean he's actually 35,) and he and his wife go walking past my house regularly, probably on the way to the local pub or the one-stop for milk or something. And every single time he passes my window, he looks in to see what I'm doing.
I'm not much of a drape puller. I'm never doing anything that neighbours shouldn't see, at least not in the living room. And I like the sunshine and the air, so I like the whole open-window, open-curtains thing. But smiley guy is going to change my policy.
Seriously, on a Sunday that guy will look in at least six times in the course of the afternoon. And if he catches my eye he doesn't look away, he doesn't wave, he just continues to stare in my window.
That ain't right. Go away, smiley guy.
I'm not much of a drape puller. I'm never doing anything that neighbours shouldn't see, at least not in the living room. And I like the sunshine and the air, so I like the whole open-window, open-curtains thing. But smiley guy is going to change my policy.
Seriously, on a Sunday that guy will look in at least six times in the course of the afternoon. And if he catches my eye he doesn't look away, he doesn't wave, he just continues to stare in my window.
That ain't right. Go away, smiley guy.
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