There Goes The Neighborhood.

You say pervert, I say young Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window. I live in an 8 storey building and across the way is a 5 storey low rise. As you can well imagine, I can see them and they can see me – my angle however affords a better view. At the beginning of May, a very cute young thing moved into the apartment on the top floor of the opposing building. Toronto was having its first little heat wave and he often walked around, cooked and watched TV shirtless.

Please don’t think I stood there with binoculars playing peeping Tom. My balcony plants need watering and I stand in a certain spot to do my ironing and if some hottie parades about in my line of sight, what am I to do? It was nice to see a bit of eye candy every once in a while. Once I even caught sight of his bare backside as he left the kitchen. I am all for nakedness, but around food? Now really.

In the apartment right next door to him are two girls who, from what I have figured out, truly enjoy wearing their bras and dancing. Once again, I was ironing and out of the corner of my eye I saw two rather blessed (in the boob department) women prancing about rather vigorously while they too ironed. Who knew ironing could be such a bonding moment?

They must have had more laundry than I, because I finished, made myself a cuppa and was sitting out on the balcony and they were still at it. I couldn’t hear the music (windows closed, AC on) so I couldn’t join in the fun but did find my head bopping along with the rhythm of their boobs. Not quite that classic song “rhythm of the night” but a close second to be sure.

As of yet, I have not noticed any other nudists in the neighborhood and I hope I don’t see any more in that particular building. The majority of the people are, how shall I put this delicately, old and I fear that and close encounter of the nudist kind would be like that scene out of There’s Something About Mary where you get an eyeful of Magda titty.