My Dear Protective Sir,
One word: Maisy.
You had me scared of your poor, defenseless, old neighbor lady before I ever got to Australia. Then I caught her watching me: and watching me – always watching me.
Once I went out in the backyard to do something, and poor Maisy made a beeline for me. I had no idea she could get around that quickly. She was fast for an old gal.
She started asking me questions. She wanted to know who I was, what I was doing in your house, how long I was staying, and why did I talk funny? (Those are just a few of the questions she bombarded me with.) I believe I started making up answers to throw her off the scent of a good gossip story. I also wanted so badly to point out that I had on your dressing gown and you needed it back pronto. Her tongue wouldn’t have stopped wagging for days. Being the ever-so-proper woman I am, I refrained.
I found it quite funny that even her son went the long way around to avoid her (but more on that later). Dear Maisy, I hope you thought of me often.
My Dear Scandalous Darling
Neighbourhood Watch took on a whole new meaning with a Maisy in your life as she never missed a thing. The neighbourhood was not so much watched as scrutinised, recorded then reported upon.
Maisy, well she would torment me. Her back porch gave her the perfect view into my backyard. If it was a warm evening and we were barbequing, she would know and join the party. If I had visitors she would see and find some reason to visit. She was shameless. If there was an event on she would invite herself. I can remember being coerced into taking her to the start of the Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race one year at a quite rich and powerful colleague’s home where she was rude and obnoxious to a myriad of people. When she felt it was time to go, and that the rest of us might actually be enjoying ourselves, she feigned a hypoglycemic attack and forced us to take her home. She was the bane of my existence.
There was another occasion when she invited herself along to a Japanese Teppanyaki restaurant then moaned bitterly about the garlic. She even managed to destroy a Christmas lunch once. We had booked to go to the restaurant. She decided she should be there also, so she called the restaurant and changed the booking to include her, which was bad enough. That wasn’t where it ended however; she also changed us from the second sitting to the first because she didn’t wish to eat at a 1.30pm. I was apoplectic.
When you visited me I most definitely would have warned you about The Maisy Beast (as she was known to all my friends and visitors.) She was a pox on my home and I did not wish for her to poison the beauty that was you and I alone together. I knew she would hunt you down and interrogate you. Having some strange American in my home would have been just too much for her gossip riddled mind. We both know she stalked you. There was no hiding from The Beast with rumour and innuendo to be had.
I wish you had tried to make her speechless with mention of the dressing gown and my urgent requirement thereof. She would have taken a moment to digest it and then probably popped a hip joint in her rush to get to the phone and tell her gossip buddies.
From Sir With Love
©2014 Darling and Sir