Creepy Peeper

I’m stuck at home (as I’m sure many of you are), thanks to a total jerk of a gal named Irene. If you want to read about HER, hop on Facebook or Twitter.

Here, I’ve decided to discuss the creepy Peeping Tom who lives across the way. My windows are like his personal giant movie screen.

I first noticed him a few months ago. It was hard not to, really, since his apt is directly across the street, on the same floor as mine. He used to hang out over his terrace (occasionally eating a banana or what appeared to be a bowl of soup) to watch me.  For hours. Like a 200lb paperweight.

And he wasn’t shy about staring. I felt like a brisket.

At first I thought, this guy can’t possibly be looking into my tiny 550 sqft studio. There must be a naked pilates session happening in the apartment directly above mine. And then he waved.

At me.

Since I didn’t reciprocate his friendly gesture, he retreated to his living room, where I could see him perched on the arm of his couch like a large bird. There he sat, night after night, with all the lights on and the terrace door open.  He doesn't appear to have much in the way of furniture. 

Recently, I’ve noticed his apartment goes completely dark around 8:30ish. I don’t know what he’s doing in there, but I can only imagine it involves a telescope that rivals the Hubble in both size and intensity.

But what a blockbuster movie he’s watching!

I mean, who can resist when I get home at night, tie my hair up in a ponytail and change (behind a closed bathroom door) into sweatpants? Who wouldn’t want to be a fly on the wall as I bask in the soft glow of a laptop while paying bills, or catching up on work, or blogging? And really, how could you NOT be riveted as I devour microwave dinners at my coffee table and burn through marathons of bad reality TV on my DVR?

Needless to say, this is the most boring pervert ever.

So, before the inevitable happens and he fashions a 3-piece skin suit from my flesh, I would like to publicly establish my wish that Tiffani (hold the Amber) Thiessen play me in the made-for-TV movie. I’d like it to follow in the grand cinematic tradition set by Mother, May I Sleep with Danger, Baby Monitor: Sound of Fear, and Do You Know the Muffin Man?

Please also cast Tracy Gold as his nosy neighbor who reports a foul odor and Kelly Lynch as the detective who shoots from the hip and goes with her gut. And Tori Spelling should make a guest-starring appearance as the jealous co-worker who openly wishes I would just disappear.

Every thriller needs a red herring.

As for the Creepy Peeper, they should find someone stubby like Jason Alexander. But my story might be too pedestrian for him.  So lock Joey Lawrence in a closet full of Whoppers for a month.  He'll pop out all pale and bloated and will be perfect for the part.

Whoa. 

So before this hurricane knocks out the electricity... tell me, who'd play you in the Lifetime movie of YOUR life?


tags: city life, entertainment