Pleasantries.

Exactly two years here and our next door neighbor finally introduced himself. Since the move, we've maintained a rigid, wary co-existence with them based on a few simple rules: no eye contact, no words, and complete indifference when we pass each other on our (very frequent) beer runs to Wilson Farms. We acknowledge the differences between us--and despise them accordingly.

But Tuesday night, "Mike" came over, asked politely for a smoke and made strained conversation. I'm not sure if he felt he needed to bum in order to converse or the other way around, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I'm also not sure why he made the effort with us--the hard hardcore lesbians that live on the other side are much more approachable--but I've a few theories. Perhaps he'd spent the last two years in a drug induced haze, had never noticed us, and the clouds were just beginning to clear. Or perhaps he has a secret love of MarioKart and just couldn't stand not being part of the fun. Maybe he'd heard me bitching last week about neighbors who walk naked in front of open windows, and figured that since I was on such familiar terms with his scrot, etiquette demanded that I at least know his name. Or maybe he just wanted a moment's rest from his lovely wife.

Whatever the reason, he came and the boundaries are officially down. Which makes him the bigger neighbor. And one less person I can ignore on my sprints from the car to the front door and back again.