Act 1, Scene 6: "Meeting a Neighbor"

TRL and wife S walk the perimeter of their backyard. TRL wears his loose gym shorts and ratty T. These used to be his gym wear, but they are now his hanging around the house wear.

They behold the freshly mowed lawn – TRL found a local high school kid to cut it – and the handsomely placed rocks landscaped by the former owners. They also behold the bugs.

Fucking mosquitoes, says TRL.

It’s the country, says S.

Fucking mosquitoes. He swats one on his arm.

There’s our neighbor. S points to a figure on the property abutting the back of their lawn.

Do we say hi? TRL asks.

Of course.

Really? Shouldn’t he say hi to us? We’re the new neighbors. Crap, he sees us.

The figure was walking over. A large doughy man. He came to the property line but did not seem inclined to step over. Perhaps there was some suburban etiquette TRL did not know about.

Hi, says S. We’re the new neighbors, S and TRL.

I’m P, the man says, and puts out his hand. TRL shakes it. It is soft and warm. Their hands meet across the border, very East Germany meeting West Germany over the fallen wall, thinks TRL.

A hornet starts buzzing around TRL. Fucking bugs, he exclaims, and waves his hand to shoo it away.

Ahhh, it went up my shorts, screams TRL. He immediately fears for his private parts. He starts dancing like a crazed chicken. His brain conjures up an image of his genitals receiving multiple stings in the close quarters. It is too much. He begins to pull down his shorts, knowing that pulling off his pants and standing in his underwear may not be optimal 'greet the neighbors and make a first impression' situation but this was an emergency.

It’s out, it’s out, S hastily repeats, putting her hand on his shoulders to stop him from doing what she knew he was about to do.

TRL stops moving and then looks down his pants. No hornet. He turns back to the neighbor.

Bugs, he says. P nods. He looks at TRL like he was a bug.