Involuntary Voyeurism

It’s been five days in the new place. So far so good. Anyway, you know how they say each house has its own night time sounds? Usually, its things like creaking floorboards or dripping taps or trees scraping against a window. In this new place however, it’s not so much the sounds as the sights that are proving to be a startling experience.

The other day, America and I were having a glass of wine and a chat in the kitchen. When I looked up, I found that I had a clear long view into the kitchen across the street. I think there is an unwritten rule that blinds aren’t allowed on kitchen windows on our street or something. So anyway, you can imagine how shocked I was to find that the man in the kitchen across the street, was standing there cooking in his altogether. Yes, he was cooking…naked. Heaven help us! For modesty’s sake (ours not his) we picked up our glasses and went into the living room where thankfully, the blinds were drawn.

Similarly, the day after that, another guy in another window in another flat decided to do his washing up in a stripey blue apron, and nothing else underneath. Of course, we only found out there was nothing underneath, when he turned round to open his fridge and his clenched bare rump glared back at us from across the street. Have we unknowingly moved into nudist territory? Is stripping down to basics some sort of weekend therapy for overworked yuppy alpha males? Why must they be naked in the only blind-less room in their house, the kitchen, for crying out loud? Is there some male perspective to this that I don’t get? Surely they know they can be seen…Thank goodness for the wholesome view of the park on the other side of the house – at least we have other viewing options when these men decide to expose themselves.

My mum is hilarious. The only comment she made concerning these exhibitionists when I complained to her, was that they should be very careful, lest they sit down to tuck into a fry up one Sunday morning, and discover they have extra protein, as it were, on their plate. She has since gone catatonic on the subject, and America and I are trying to master the art of averting our gaze…