The blinds side

Late last year, I decided that I had too much money and too much health, and ramped up the one expensive, unhealthy vice that I indulge in, aside from comic books: Smoking cigars.

I went from having one or two every couple of months, to one or two a week. (Which occasionally becomes three or four a week, depending on if it's nice out or how much stress I happen to be under.) Unfortunately, this decision coincided with the start of winter and cold temperatures and various snowpocalypses. You ever try smoking a cigar in 30 degree weather, wrapped in multiple layers, desperately puffing away to stay warm? It's not fun. So it took a while before I could really dive into it.

When it did warm up, I finally started to take advantage of having a balcony after mostly ignoring it for years. I'll sit, smoke, and catch up on Twitter or blogs or whatever on my iPhone. Or I'll just stare out into space. This has far and away become my favorite pastime. It's incredibly relaxing and a great way to unwind after a long day. (Especially when there's also alcohol involved.) There are days at work where it's all I can do to just make it home so I can zone out and float away on a billowy cloud of cigar smoke.

Of course, this one...one...perfect thing in my life couldn't not be ruined by something stupid.

About 30 yards away from my balcony is another apartment building. Specifically, the bedroom windows of those apartments. From my vantage point, there are three bedrooms on three different floors that I can see more-or-less directly into when their occupants have their blinds up.

And they almost always have their blinds up.

Based on what I've seen--and just to be perfectly clear, I really have no choice as to which direction I'm facing while sitting on my balcony, unless I want to turn my chair around and stare at a wall or into my own apartment--here are basic descriptions of the residents in those apartments.

Bedroom #1: Hot girl

Bedroom #2: Some dude

Bedroom #3: Hot girl

If I were a peeping tom, I'm sure I'd love this set-up. Well, 2/3s of it, anyway. But honestly, all I want to do is smoke my fucking cigar, have a couple of beers, listen to that week's Ron & Fez shows or Big O & Dukes on my iPod, and forget the real world for a couple of lousy hours. Anything that gets in the way of that, hot girl or not, is an unwelcome distraction.

Over the past few months, these have been my experiences with the people in these apartments.

Bedroom #1: One night, I was sitting outside, and the girl and her boyfriend entered the bedroom. They started making out. "Oh, come on..." I muttered, and averted my eyes. I counted to ten, and then added an extra five just for good measure, and when I finally did look straight ahead again, I was certain that they would have closed the blinds or at least turned the lights off. Nope. They were now on the bed, and even though my view mercifully wasn't as good now that they were horizontal, it was pretty clear they were having sex. The dude really seemed to be into the missionary position. Lucky girl.

I basically had three options at this point: 1) Put out the cigar and go inside. But cigars aren't cheap. Why should I have to throw away a perfectly good $9 La Flor Dominicana just because my neighbors are idiots? 2) Go inside and finish it. Except I don't want my apartment reeking of cigar smoke. 3) Sit there and be uncomfortable. I went with option #3. For the next several minutes, I looked everywhere except straight ahead. When they finally finished, that's when they turned off the lights. It's happened once more since then. I hate them.

Bedroom #2: The guy who lives in this apartment seems to love keeping his blinds open, even at night. Unlike my other neighbors, he actually notices me sitting on my balcony. And whenever he sees me, he gives me a dirty look as if I'm out there just to spy on him, and indignantly closes his blinds. Then, once I've finished the cigar and gone back inside, he'll open them again. Who re-opens their bedroom window blinds at 10 o'clock at night? Isn't that a sign of someone who actually wants to be spied on?

Bedroom #3: This is the most perplexing one of all. The girl who lives in this apartment moved in about a month ago, and as far as I can tell, she never closes her blinds. Never. I'll see her on her computer. I'll see her reading a book. I'll see her dancing around her room. I'll see her in her underwear. I'll see her out of her underwear, too. In case you're wondering, yes, she's over 18. But, uh...probably not by a whole lot.

And, you know, on one level, it feels as though that as a guy, I should probably be enjoying this. But since I'm not living in a Cinemax movie, it's fucking awkward to have it happen right in front of me, and not be able to clear my throat and say, "Excuse me, miss? Do you know I can see you? And your breasts?" Even when she isn't naked, it's awkward. In fact, it somehow seems more intrusive to watch her doing something mundane like simply laying on her bed reading a book. At that point, it feels like voyeurism just for the sake of voyeurism, if that makes any sense. Even when said voyeurism isn't intentional.

At first, I didn't think too much of it. I guess I just figured that before too long, she'd notice me sitting out there and get a clue. Especially since when she's sitting at her computer, she's facing my balcony through her window, so she should be able to easily see me. But it hasn't happened. I mean, I'm almost positive she's seen me. She just hasn't taken the next logical step and closed her fucking blinds as a result of seeing me.

A couple of nights ago, she was in her bedroom with some guy. All they did was talk. At least, that's all they were doing when I was out there. But after what happened with the other apartment, the whole time I was smoking, I was mentally begging two people I didn't even know to not start having sex in front of me. Needless to say, in America, this isn't something anyone should have to do. Maybe in France. But not America.

So I'm kind of at a loss.

Do I walk over to her building and leave an anonymous note on her door asking her to close her blinds? That seems like something an 80 year-old woman would do.

Does she know I can see into her bedroom and just not care? Should I sit back and enjoy the show? That seems weird. And maybe a good way to get a visit from the cops if I'm wrong.

Do I continue to do what I've been doing, which is to make a concerted effort not to look straight ahead and into her bedroom window? No matter how unfair this is to me and my smoking experience?

It seems like there's really no way for me to come out of this with both a satisfactory conclusion and my self-respect intact.

Whatever. I'm really envious of you people who hate your neighbors because they play their music too loud or don't pick up after their dogs. If anyone wants to trade, just let me know.