Redneck Central
August 11, 2007

During college, I lived in a little duplex on campus. It was a nice little place ... the rent was unbelievably low even for an on-campus place. The drawback was that the place was tiny and only had one small and ancient window air-conditioner ... and this was hotter than hades Texas we're talking about.

So, we moved off campus to another duplex. Doubled the size of our living space (at least doubled) and we also doubled our rent. And, our neighbors became ... well ... let's just say they were interesting. We called the place the Neighborhood of Pigs. (And realize now, that this was highly offensive to the animal pigs ... who are much cooler than any of these neighbors were.)

On one corner, in front of our new home was an alcoholic who lived with his much older wife. He'd yell horrible things at her periodically ... it was a true joy to listen to. Not.

In the other half our our duplex were the friends who had talked us into moving in here ... wonderful people and it was quite nice to continue to live next to people we actually knew and liked.

On the other corner (we lived on the top bar of a T intersection), however, were the rednecks from hell.

Seriously. These were the people with an American flag as their curtain on the front door ... and one of the largest Confederate flags I've ever seen as their curtain for the living room windows. They had a gorgeous, large front porch that I was jealous of. But, they also had the bench seat from a school bus and the back bench seat from an SUV as the seating arrangement on the porch.

I never did figure out how many people were living there, either. There were at least 3 guys and one woman. And, any given week, there might be as many as 5 guys living there.

They were typical rednecks. They had hated our next door neighbors since they moved in because they were gay (something they neglected to tell us about before we moved in!). They'd occasionally come outside and scream horrible things at Stacy and Melanie ... and then the weird dyke commune women from two streets over would inevitably come out and just stand in the street and glare at the rednecks until they got scared and ran back inside their house. (Neither we nor Stacie and Melanie knew any of these women ... but they would just magically appear in the street whenever the rednecks began thinking of getting out of line ... was very odd.)

And, of course, the rednecks had a hound dog and junk all over the yard and lined up by their privacy fence. They couldn't have been more a stereotype of a crappy redneck if they'd actually tried to be one. Although, I did find their mode of transportation amusing ... they drove a hearse!

Needless to say, the neighborhood was highly entertaining.

One evening, the drunk's wife was out of town. Not having her to scream at, he came and stood in his driveway, wavering there and looking for someone to yell at.

Redneck Girl came out of their house. With a bicycle. She gets on this red Schwinn 3 speed with the granny seat and handlebars, affixes her little bicycle helmet, checks her tall orange flag (I'm not kidding here) and proceeds to labouriously pedal off.

Drunk Man is happy now. He has someone to yell at. Hands on hips, he screams out "Ya fat cow! You're gonna have to do more than ride that bike once around the block if you want to lose some of that fat cow weight." He continues calling out "Fat Cow" at random intervals. And wavering.

She rode around the block once ... and retreated back into Redneck Central. It was the only time anyone ever saw her on that bike.

But the most amusing night in Pigs Neighborhood was the night the cops descended on Redneck Central.

You see, the five redneck boys and their girl were sitting in the house when they heard a noise in the backyard. Now, if the front porch was a junkyard mess, the backyard was far, far worse. There were paths of junk, bits of car parts, metal, miscellaneous stuff. One of the rednecks tip-toed outside, heard a noise from a different part of the yard and he high-tailed it back into the house.

They called the police. Because someone was trying to steal their junk. (And they were too scared to confront the burglar.)

Three or four cop cars show up, lights blazing. Some go in through the front door, others head around to the backyard. I am watching out the window, entranced by the scene as it unfolds.

The privacy fence falls over.

Turns out the privacy fence was something they had taken from a construction site and just leaned up against their crappy chain link fence. Scared the crap out of the cops when a whole section of fence fell over. But they started laughing. Guns drawn, they continued on into the junk infested backyard.

About 15 minutes later, the cops are laughing their butts off and getting into their squad cars. One last cop stood on the front porch and talked to the five redneck boys and the redneck girl for quite some time.

The prowler?

It was their pot-bellied pig.

The one they forgot they owned! These big, tough, redneck boys had been scared senseless by their own pet.

Naturally, the ASPCA came and picked up the pig soon thereafter. And their hound dog.

So they got a cocker spaniel pup that winter.

Some people never learn.

Posted by Red Monkey at August 11, 2007 2:24 AM | Never Underestimate the Power of Human Stupidity | | StumbleUpon Toolbar Stumble |

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