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WONDERFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

by Gene Royer - a voice of reason in a babbling society.

October 31st, 2002

Gene Writes:

Last year, my gay Filipino neighbors bought a pickup-truck load of throw-away corn from the Farmers' Market. Apparently they got it pretty cheap, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out what they were up to. The secret was recently revealed, however, when Deputy David Turrell showed up at my place, asking if I minded stepping next door to their house with him while he handled a complaint from the neighbor on the other side.

Deputy Turrell was no stranger to me because he'd been here on several occasions in times past: Once, during Gay Pride Week when both little Filipino guys were arrested for carrying guns into a liquor store, and once when they got into a domestic argument, and one had cracked the other over the head with a large plastic object.

The guns in the first incident were not real, but they looked real enough to startle the Vietnamese store owner into a 911 panic; and in the second incident, the plastic object turned out to be an inoperative sex toy for which one of them had blamed the other.

Each time, I had intervened on their behalf, so David knew I could be of help - especially since in this complaint, the two were allegedly outside their house in the yard - as naked as the day they were born - where the woman next door spotted them and called the cops.

When the call came in, the Sheriff's dispatcher recognized the address from previous complaints and sent David. She always sends David because he, himself, is as gay as elves' shoes.

I put on a shirt and went with him.

No one answered the gate bell, so we scaled the seven-foot-tall, brick wall that encloses the yard. At the side of the house - on the patio - we found the homemade still. It was no longer in operation, but alongside one wall were two half-full jugs of alcohol - and against the other wall, two completely full Filipinos. We rearranged their awkward sprawl so as to insert some manner of decency into the scene, and David gave them a quick check over.

Luis, the smaller of the two appeared not to be breathing, so David put on latex gloves and administered CPR while I called for help. Within minutes the medics arrived, and I opened the gate to let them in. Both little guys left there on gurneys, but Whatshisname, the taller of the two, was now awake and swearing drunkenly.

After David tagged the alcohol and put it in his car, we looked at the tall, brick wall and wondered how the woman next door had managed to see them. When we went around back we figured it out. That's where they keep the trampoline.

©2002 The Tocquevillian Magazine