The Underwear Syndrome

I live in Oakland in a typical neighborhood. It’s a marginal affair with the occasional dead body at the end of the street. It’s not the kind of place I would ever be caught dead outside my house without pants, shirt, shoes and probably a switchblade. What I can’t understand are my neighbors who wander outside their home in their skivvies. That’s right – their undies. It’s not one or two of them. It’s a whole army of them. I saw my next door neighbor go out in his boxers and retrieve his morning paper from the sidewalk, not from the front porch or his newsbox. He walked to the sidewalk, not in an apologetic sort of way either. He walked out there like he was clad in Levi’s and a shirt. Look at me, except all he had on was boxers and a T shirt. I saw my other neighbor two doors down and across the street come out of the house in her lingerie and wash out a garbage can. Her hose is around the side of her house. She didn’t have on a bathrobe. She had on some poofy slippers with ostrich feathers on them. I stopped to talk to her about an abandoned her in front of her house. Her boobies fell out of silkies as she bent over to wash her bucket. Then there’s the guy with the beautiful Japanese garden. He walks around in his P.J. all dang day. He greets me while I am walking the dogs. “How are you? I don’t have any underwear on and the fly doesn’t close on my P.J. short bottoms.” And what about the tall dude on the dog walk that was rummaging in his recycling one night? He didn’t hear me and the dogs as we approached. There he was all bent over in his dress shirt and his undies. That one got a yelp of surprise from me. He is the only one that scurried back into his house. Is there some unwritten code I’m not privy to. Paragraph 309 section 7. sub section 32 Wander freely in underwear and P.J.s all about the neighborhoods of Oakland. Show no shame. Let your privates hang out. It doesn’t count.


8 Responses to “The Underwear Syndrome”

  1. I’ve seen a few naked guys in their front yards in the early morning while I’m driving, but rampant neighborhood folks sans pants is a new one on me. If I had to make a guess as to why, I would say people in older neighborhoods get so comfortable with their surroundings and have seen all their neighbors in their early morning duds that being outside in their P.J.’s or undies seems reasonable after awhile. I’ve lived in an barrio, but older Mexican men usually won’t wear short pants in public much less traipse around in their tighty whities, and their wives would probably get a swift kick if they were to allow another man to see them in anything less than full dress. Significant other told me that on more than one occasion he’s had white women answer the door with nothing but a towel wrapped around them straight out of the shower, so maybe it’s a cultural thing. I never got the “sex talk” from my Mom, but I did get the what’s appropriate and what’s not appropriate as far as running around in front of any man (dad, uncle, cousin) after age eight speech.

  2. I have to say AZ, I only thought that deal about woman answering the door naked in a towel was some overwritten scene out of a movie. It really has happened to your hubby???? That tops anything I’ve written here. What the heck? Can you even imagine. Why go to the door. What is with people. Is naked and undie okay? Someone rewrote the rules and no one told me.

  3. I’m sure stranger things have happened. My brother, the retired letter carrier, told me a few stories about nude and near nude females that came to the door to sign for a letter. Of course that wasn’t as bad as the dogs that chased him.

  4. Before Significant Other became a service tech he was a installer, on more than one occasion he saw women sun bathing in the nude while he was on the roof, they had to know he was on the roof I mean the ladder banging against the house, him walking caring all manner of metal flashings, and he even said he would cough to let them know he was there, but they never bothered to cover up. I guess some women like exhibiting “the goods” to strangers.

  5. I guess it depends on where one lives. In Europe, nude sun bathing is not a big thing. Europeans have a more relaxed attitude about nudity. Plenty of commercials on TV and in various newspapers and magazines with some nudity in it.

  6. What the heck is with that Steve? Neekid for the postman. I never in a million years thought about showing off my nothingness to the postman. Of course I wanted him to come back the next day, not scare him to death.

    Okay, I’m the first to admit I’m in love with skinny dipping, not sun bathing but skinny dipping. I had a pool when I lived in Phoenix. It was always too damn hot there for me to live without one. I used to come straight home from work walk through the front door and out the back and jump in the pool – clothes and all, but then it was destroying my clothes. I got so I just shed my clothes on the way to the pool. I’m not into nudity and certainly not into people looking at my nudity but skinny dipping has always been high on my list. Actually it was until I caught my psycho neighbor peeping through the bricko blocks at me late one night then it wasn’t so high on my list.

  7. “it was until I caught my psycho neighbor peeping through the bricko blocks at me late one night then it wasn’t so high on my list.” Yep, that would do it.

  8. I had previously turned him and his wife into the cops for beating on each other late one summer’s night. Apparently it was the event that ended their marriage. Sooooo, he was more than the casual weirdo. Needless to say, my skinny dipping ended that night.

    Imagine the windows open, working on some writing that you think is pure genius. You are caught up in your own little world hour after hour. !am becomes 2am. Some noise dances around next door, but you’re not quite listening to it until the next door neighbor’s wife asks, “Is there blood on my face?” How fast do you think I dialed 911? What happened next? Cops creeping around the house. Paddy wagons showed up. The road was blocked momentarily. Child protective services pulled up in their own car. And then the cops hauled the wife and the guy away. The wife moved out after that. She left with the kids and the creep stayed behind to later peep at me through the bricko block fence.

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