People look out their windows. It's just something we do. We have eyes, we are curious, glass and screens are transparent, etc. Someone named Kathy has been looking out her window at a plastic bag stuck in a tree. It's been there for 167 days. I applaud Kathy for her vigilance in observing her surroundings.
Do you want to know what's going on outside my window right now? Come on, let's have a peek. If you need to get your glasses, go ahead, I'll wait.
See that row of shrubs? No, to the left. There you go. Now, see the man holding a bicycle tire over his shoulder? Yes, the one who just dumped his clothes out of his plastic bag onto the sidewalk. Ahhh, you have a good memory! No, it's not the same man whose girlfriend kicked him out a few weeks ago. That was across the street; this is to the right.
This man is older and he's very angry at someone named Linda—nope, not my mom (I hope)—because she has the rest of his clothes in her trunk and she won't give them back. And she owes him $1,000 for landscaping work he did in her $@#^&ing yard that week he worked six $%#*ing days in a row.
Do you see the person he's talking to? Neither do I. Let's go over to the other window. Could you push over a little? Your breath smells like tacos. Thanks.
Hmm, I don't see anyone either. Oh wait. Nope. That's a fire hydrant. Good guess though.
Oh wait, there he goes. Down the street.
Goodbye one--bicycle-tire-man-whose-clothes-are-being-held-hostage. Thank you for delivering a poignant and passionate monologue by our shrubs. And thank you, too, for not leaving behind your plastic bag. I fear Kathy doesn't make house calls.
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