Sunday, March 09, 2008

Everybody Needs Nosy Neighbours

Our street is situated in a quiet residential area filled with middle class families and surrounded by coos (that’s cows) in fields. Not much happens here. Which is why in the dead of night when one hears a ruckus out in the street we all get rather excited.

I’ve just drifted off when my dreams are interrupted by the booming male voices arguing outside my window. Being the nosy cow that I am, I reach for my glasses, perch them on the end of my nose and bound towards the window. I peel back the blind and peek out.

There, right in front of our garden stands a young man wearing ladies high heels and a tight t-shirt. He’s clearly drunk, swaying in his stilettos and wailing incoherently. A few metres away from him stands another man, clutching firmly onto a manbag, yowling like a caterwauling tomcat and pointing the finger at Stiletto Boy.

Next thing I know, Stiletto Boy and Manbag Boy lunge at one another and my heart leaps in my chest as I realise there’s a fight in my street!

There’s nothing better than watching a fight from your window, up high where you are safe and warm and know that you aren’t getting in anyone’s way. If I were brave enough I would even have used this as an opportunity to spur them on (“Come on, fight him like a man, stand up for yerself, ye big jessy!” etc) but I’m not
a) brave
b) that dumb
c) asking for trouble.

“Ye effin’ bas, ye!”* Cries Stiletto Boy as he raises his leg and gives a swift kick to his opponent’s stomach. “Get it up ye**, ye clatty dobber!”***

I pick up my mobile phone and text my brother who’s here for the weekend and is still awake watching a late night movie downstairs.

“Look out the window!” I text, excitement making it difficult for my fingers to find the buttons. “There’s a fight in our street!”

A few choice insults are thrown around outside as the two men circle one another.

My phone vibrates and I read, “I know, I’ve been watching for ages! Is he wearing high heels?!”

I snicker softly as I look around at the other houses in the street. Some people are openly standing at their windows, staring out, others are less conspicuous, like myself, and the only evidence of them sneaking a peek is by the slight gape in the curtains or the blinds.

Both boys are in some kind of headlock now and I’m worried for Stiletto Boy’s ankles; such silly shoes to pick a fight in.

I consider calling out some advice; “Ah go on Stiletto Boy, take off your shoe and smack him with it!” “Hit him with the left, the left I said, THE LEFT!” But I decide that watching a fight and getting excited about it is shameful enough.

Someone has called the police, as they always do in this neighbourhood at the first sign of any shenanigans and within moments a police car arrives with a flashing blue beacon on the roof. Unfortunately this brouhaha does not appear to merit a siren.

Manbag Boy then proceeds to kick Stiletto Boy in the balls which sends him to the ground, wailing in a strange, high pitched cry. Manbag Boy runs off into the distance and one of the policemen runs after him while the other deals with Stiletto Boy.

And then it’s all over. Some people stay at their windows – the show might not be finished! – but eventually it becomes clear that that is our excitement over for another year in this street, and shadowy figures retreat, lights switch off and I climb back into bed.

This is as exciting as it gets living in a wee village in the suburbs of Glasgow. I think it is time to pack my bags and officially move to Paris

Bonus Scottish Insults
*Ye bas - you are a bastard
**Get it up ye - 'ha ha!'
***Ye clatty dobber- you are a dirty penis


Lis of the North said...

Oh Princesse it sounds like your folks stay in the West Coast equivalent of the sleepy suburb my parents inhabit. The most noise you ever hear round there is on fireworks night, and again at new year. Then everyone goes back to sleep for another ten months.
Any concrete plans for your move to France? I hope this means your health has truly taken a turn for the better and you can make a start on all your plans! xx

Ghosty said...

So, what proof can we glean here that the Scots are weird?:

a. It's easier to text someone who's right downstairs than it is to simply walk to the hallway and say "look out the window, brother!"

b. In the idyllic setting of cow pastures and quiet suburban streets, men can be found wandering about in high heels, clutching man-bags and so forth. (Such goings-on are normally reserved for more urban environments.)

c. This silly Scot thinks she'll see none of this in Paris. Or, a lot more of it, which makes her silly for an altogether different reason.

d. Scots share much in common with Americans, in that they love a good fight and have no problem being entertained by men in drag. No self-respecting American would call someone else "a dirty penis", though, as that's utterly goofy (although I may adopt "get it up ye" as the next trend in Yankee taunts!).

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Yes Lis!! I wanted to keep it a surprise until I was actually there but feck it, I'm too excited. Let's just say concrete plans have been made, things are set in stone and shortly I will be living there permanently and not here. Oh and there will also be a job interview. Eeeeeeeee!

Ghosty what a laugh! You had me in stitches with that comment. Our village appears to be the haunt of lots of gay men over the past few years, I'm now getting used to the manbags and stiletto clad males. Stiletto Boy is in fact a beautician (yes, I didn't let on in the blog post but I do know him from my childhood) thus completing the campness.

As for the texting that's not just Scottish folk who do that, that's the young lazy people of today. (My flatmate and I used to sit with our laptops online in the same room and spoke to one another on MSN Messenger.) Also I really couldn't tear myself away from the window. I mean it was riveting, what if I missed something?!

Jane said...

Oooo what excitement!

I knew as soon as I read I would've been exactly the same! I would've texted too, I mean, really, an opportunity like this only comes around once or twice a lifetime, and it wouldn't do to miss some of it. Have to say though, I'm a bit disappointed in your bro for not letting on to you about it. Get him telt.

As for Lis, I know the area your folks live in, and while it does sound very like the lovely Princess's, I can recall several occasions when it may have been considerably rowdier, say, about 14 or 15 years ago...but I'll say no more on that!

I am so excited or you P, so glad you are finally getting the chance to move to Paris. I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo jealous! I have to content myself with the trip I've booked for May!


Princesse Ecossaise said...

Haha! Oh Jane, it didn't even occur to me but you're right! Why didn't my bro' tell me as soon as it began? If he had, perhaps I would have found out the reason of the argument and then this post would have turned out a lot more satisfying. Now we are all left wondering 'but why...?' and 'what did Manbag Boy do?'

Straight men, it seems, will never get the hang of gossip.

Ach don't be jealous Jane! Come over sometime and we'll hang out! In fact even better, we'll get Lis along too and we'll be three Scottish chicks in France. What fun!

Where are you going in May? May is going to be a wonderful month of trips and sun and moving and new jobs and BUYING NEW SANDALS, for everyone! I love May!

Jane said...

I usually love May too, it's my b'day month after all, and this year I'm of to Paris for it, Yippee! B finally took the ever-so-subtle hints (read: "I want you to take me to Paris for my birthday. Do you want me to book it?"). I can't wait!

Good idea to get together with Lis too, then you can find out for yourself why her parents neck of the woods wasn't always so peaceful!

Leah said...

Ooh....fight, fight, FIGHT!! It is a tad unsatisfying to not know why Murse and Stiletto went at it, so you'll have to update us if you ever find out! Yay for you moving to Paris and with an interview already...congrats!

PS-I just saw you added me to your blogroll, thaaaaaaaaaanks!

Bonnie said...

I live next door to a laneway in which has housed teenage drunken parties, graffiti artists, cheech & chong style twosome and their guitars and singin, hidden weapons and plenty of arguments and fist fights. Quite amusing at times, othertimes quite frustrating!

T.D. Newton said...

That is hilarious!!

And thank you for clarifying the insults. You know I would have asked, anyway.

sir jorge said...

overall...i've never lived in a place where I knew my neighbors.

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Jane a Paris trip for your birthday, yay!! I had to laugh at how you 'hinted' at B, men are so typical like that!

Leah it really is annoying not knowing what these people were fighting about - I've been doing some subtle research in the neighbourhood but no one knows, everyone is pretending they didn't see / hear it! Pfft liars!

Bonnie that sounds like the sort of place I'm looking for to be entertained at night; where do you live and I'm joining ya there! (only joking, the weapons and drunken teenage parties sound awful but the others could be fun if in the right mood!)

TD haha, see I did that for you! Don't ever let anyone say you don't get a good education at this blog!

Sir Gorge do you live in a city? When I live in a city in an apartment I never know my neighbours but living in more rural or surburban areas people are more willing to talk. And when you live in the teensiest tiniest village that I do you realise that everyone knows everyone.

T.D. Newton said...

Trust me, Princesse, I'm one of many Americans that needs a lesson in international slang. I appreciate you being the provider of my regular dose of wee vocab.

Zhu said...

Oh lucky girl, that's better than a movie!

My neighborhood (Canada) is surburbia. Very quiet, I basically don't even see the people. Yet three weeks ago... we had a whole SWAT team on a Sunday night, blocking the streets, 20 police cars etc. to arrest a couple of guys. I, of course, watched the whole thing and yes, pictures. :D said...

This blog always makes me smile, and this time I have the bonus of the insult translation...Thanks!

Bonnie said...

If you ever find yourself living in Australia, let me know and i'll rent you a room and you can be "entertained".

Princesse Ecossaise said...

TD the beauty of learning these charming Scottish insults means that in American you can freely fling them around when angry safe in the knowledge that you're not gonna get biffed in the face!

Zhu that sounds amazin'! Man I realy wish I'd seen that it makes my own excitement over two shemales in fisticuffs seem silly now...ANd hang on did you say you took pictures?! Do Share!!

Busymom like I said to TD Newton, you may use these insults freely and no one will know what you are saying! You could even say them in a sweet tone of voice, thus throwing off your enemy making them think you are paying them a compliment when, in fact, you are really calling them a dirty penis :-)

Bonnie that's a deal! ;-)

Micah D. Newton said...

woo! i am an official subscriber! seems silly to always be looking over my husband's shoulder to read this blog when i could be doing it on my own. silly silly!

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Hi Micah! Awww it feels kind of cool that I have husband and wife subscribers! Yay! Hope you enjoy reading the blog :-)

T.D. Newton said...

Yeah except now I have to watch what I say when I comment hahaha

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Ha! Yes indeed! You are always leaving inappropriate comments here TD.

(Just to be really really clear here, that was me attempting sarcasm)