![]() ![]() It was less trouble just leaving the car in the driveway than it was to fight with the garage door every morning and night. It wasn’t like I kept my car in there: the garage door was a piece of shit that refused to open without a good thug and a whack. I decided I’d leave his package in my garage. Lugging it across the road to my house was even harder, and I quickly realized there was no way I was going to drag it up the stairs and through my front door. I’m no small fry, but I admit I had trouble lifting the box on my own. In big red letters was written “Return to Sender”. Then, one evening, I got home to find a cardboard box waiting on his front porch. He received a few bills, a bit of spam, and what I could only assume was a birthday card. Things were pretty normal for the first couple of days. I was always afraid his stunts would wind up bleeding over into my life. I can’t explain the peace of mind I had knowing I didn’t have to brace myself for any of his stupidity for a while. So, when he knocked on my door the other day, told me he was going away for a few weeks, and asked that I get his mail, honestly, it was a relief. It can get tiring to watch him go about his shenanigans in the pursuit of viral fame. Over the years, I’ve seen him cough out cinnamon, lay flat on the hood of his car as it slowly creeps down the driveway, and douse himself in lukewarm water, all the while screaming epic win, epic fail, or, fuck, epic maintenance of the status quo, for all I know. My neighbor is one of those annoying wannabe YouTube personalities. ![]()
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