Tele-exhibitionism

From my front porch I can see into the living room across the street. I can see that they have an 80” flatscreen. If you didn’t know about this giant TV, you’d think there was a naked woman walking around in plain sight. I don’t know what would be more embarrassing, being seen naked or airing my taste in porn to the neighborhood. It’s the televisual equivalent of blasting music with the windows down.

So if the windows are the eyes of the house, and the eyes are the window to the soul, and if you look into the soul of a house through its eyes and find a man pouring wax onto a pair of fake breasts, what are you supposed to think?

Would it be weird to watch this person watch regular TV, like sitcoms and news, and would it be more telling? I don’t think it makes a difference. I think the question is what’s more lonely: the TV-watching itself or that this person wants his TV-watching to be watched?

FOUND: pink silk underwear with black lace lining and bows.

Wanted: Owner of aforementioned underwear.  You happened to leave these in a very suggestive place, that being midway up the back stairs to my apartment. Do you realize that this is how most movies that air after midnight on Cinemax begin? I’m fairly certain you were not leaving a trail, for I did not find a bra in the hallway. I’m also fairly certain they didn’t just fall off, and they looked too clean to have fallen from your laundry basket.  Rest assured, I did not touch them.  There’s no way I’m getting fingerprints on what could possibly become incriminating evidence in a trial of perversion and stairape. Kindly remove them from this absurd location and let my imagination rest. If they’re still there in the morning, I’m calling the cops.