What are we, twelve?

Our new neighborhood is made up of smart, educated people. Or at least it appeared that way when we moved in. People have great jobs, there are few SAHMs, some dual incomes. We have principals, teachers, tons of engineers and some business owners.

When I moved into the hood, a few people made casual mention about the drama on our street. They call it "Wisteria Lane". I'm sure my readers are not familiar with Desperate Housewives but to fill you in, you don't want to live on Wisteria Lane. People change partners, tell massive lies, gossip, often get hit by cars, commit suicide and get killed. So I probe. That's what I was trained to do. Someone gives you information, you follow up with a probing question to get more detail. This was probably one of those instances where it would be better "not to know". While no one is getting killed, there is a lot of drama. Lots of lies and gossip.

From what I can tell there are three teams. Team one is the "Happy Hour crew". They hold a happy hour every Friday night at someone's house. These can be short or these can go on into the morning hours. I've only attended once because of our busy visitor schedule.

I don't have a name yet for Team two. They are definitely several very opinionated people. While this could be said about the Happy Hour Crew, they are less vocal about it around people they don't know.

Then there is Team three, which I am on. It's called Switzerland. I'm trying to stay neutral which clearly they do not want us to do as they have been trying to recruit us on their team.

The team leaders for one and two live directly across the street from one another. They despise each other. And to make it worse, I live right next door to the leader of team one and then adjacent to the leader of team two. Again, I'm trying to be Switzerland.

A few weeks ago, my dad was here for a visit. Happy Hour was going to be at the team leader's house (Sally), right next door. Since my dad was here, and my sister, we declined to attend. When we woke up the next morning my dad had a full report of the goings on from the previous night.

Dad: Your neighbors were having a great time last night!

Me: Oh yeah, they have happy hour every Friday night.

Dad: They kept me awake from 1:30-3:00.

Me: What are you talking about?

Dad: Last night I kept hearing all these voices around 1:30 am. I thought it was a bunch of teenagers and since they were so loud, I thought maybe they were causing trouble. I looked out the window and it was a bunch of adults standing in the street.

Me: Wow, I didn't hear a thing and my room is at the front of the house. Must have been tired. I've heard these people really like to party it up.

Dad: Oh yeah, they were really partying all right. One lady went across the street, pulled down her pants and peed on the lawn.

Me: What? Are you sure?

Dad: Oh yeah, I saw the whole thing! (he laughs) They must have been pretty drunk to pee on someone's lawn.

Me: Show me which house.

He then points to the leader of Team two's house, Mabel. I thought he had lost his mind. I kept asking him if he was sure. He kept laughing and saying, "Oh I'm sure."

Then it clicks. Maybe the Happy Hour crew had someone go over to Mabel's lawn and pee on it!!

Fast forward to this weekend. Theresa (team two) stops by my house, because of kids.

Theresa: "Just so you know.....the drama is full on."

Me: "What?" (seriously I do try to stay out of it)

Theresa: Apparently a few weeks ago, this new person in the neighborhood was at Happy Hour and she peed on Mabel's lawn.

Me: So it's really true?

Theresa: What?

Me: (before I can think) My dad saw the whole thing. I thought he lost his marbles. That is crazy! I seriously can't believe someone peed on someone else's lawn. What are we, twelve?

I can't remember all the details about how it got back to Team two but you know that saying, "Who pissed in your Cheerios?" Yeah, well....Mabel knows who pissed in hers.

Comments, thoughts? I can't post this on Facebook and yet I got to tell someone!