A Very True Story (My Indian Neighbors)

Sometimes, I feel a bit lazy.. I'm sure you know the feeling. Where you just can't seem to bring yourself to drag your hideously grotesque, potato-chip covered, 450 pound ass out of the huge indentation that you've made on the couch.

Let me get to my point here.. I'm a modern-day Jesus. I have done good deeds that the Lord himself would smile upon. Every Thursday, for roughly 5 months, I have been taking all the trash inside my apartment.. I'm talking cans, bottles, wrappers, soiled bed sheets, old newspapers, dirty diapers (and I don't even own a baby), bananna peels, etc.. you get the picture.. Anyway, I take all of my trash and I listen at my door until I hear complete silence outside and when it's totally silent, I spring from my apartment and place my 3 or 4 large, black trash bags on the porch of my neighbor across the walkway. Then I dart back inside my apartment, slam, and lock the door. This has become something of a tradition... It started when I first moved into my apartment and realized that the dumpsters were ridiculously far away from where my apartment was located. And my lack of transportation doesn't permit me to transport the massive amount of trash that I accrue every week. Since then, I've realized that I'm not only making life easier for me, but I'm creating a better life for some who are more unfortunate than I.

My sweet neighbors, the good and kind people on the receiving end of my charity, are a young, Indian couple with a very small baby that just moved here to the states only a few days before I moved into this apartment. I know what you're thinking: What a strange and wonderful coincidence! I'm sure they have trouble getting by in this strange, foreign country and I'm sure when it comes to food, their small infant usually goes wanting. So I do them the favor of giving them my leftovers.

I assume that every Thursday, they huddle at the door, waiting for the kind, robust man across the walkway to deliver their weekly bags full of goodies. Then, as soon as they hear me re-enter my apartment and close the door, their door flies open and they descend on my bags with delight and excitement, like a flock of hungry vultures on a fresh carcass. It's my pleasure to fill their distended, starving bellies.

Lately, I've seen my wonderful neighbors looking rather depressed and forlorn, as if someone has been mistreating them. Who would harm such a beautiful family? Who would even think to insult them in any way?! I was furious to see them like that, so I did what any charitable human being would do.. I upped their rations. I forced myself to consume more waste-producing products. I let pounds of meat sit in the sun for days, before throwing them away into my neighbors' care-packages(garbage bags). I even visited nearby dumpsters and hoarded as many other bags as I could carry for my needy friends across the way.

Finally, one Thursday, the pile in front of the neighbors' door was so massive in size, that the door itself was not visible. That day, I turned to run back inside my home, as is the custom, but I stopped myself... I paused to look at the good that I had done for these poor, poor people. I felt proud of what I had accomplished and as I pictured their brown, shining faces light up with joy when they saw the heaping pile of bags, I smiled too. In that moment, I knew.. I truly am a good man..

This morning, I received a notice on the door of my apartment saying that I was being evicted. It also said that if I wasn't out within 24 hours, the police would be notified. It also mentioned something about harassment, but honestly, I only skimmed the note briefly. I won't be leaving because I have friends here.. and I'm sure once I show this notice to my wonderful neighbors across the walkway, they will go to the management and beg for me to stay. They simply won't stand for the eviction of such a good neighbor.. such a good man..