Asian Spectacle 03-01-10

Anyone close to me knows that my vacuum always gets a good workout. I attribute my cleanly ways to my mother who literally vacuumed her mattresses early on in her marriage. I am not "that bad," but I do admit to regularly vacuuming my garage. Yes, my garage.

As a newlywed, I was determined to convince my husband that as a capable wife, I reigned supreme. As a result, my enthusiasm for vacuuming was at an all time high.

Our first apartment looked out to an identical building. We could only hope that the tenants across from us would keep a cheerful patio so that we would have some semblance of a view.

In New Orleans, most days are hot and humid and this day was no exception. To top things off, I woke to a broken air conditioning. Yet, I reasoned that at the very least the front of the apartment had to be tidy for the maintenance man.

Determined, I striped down to my "oversized" bra and panties and began cleaning. It was only when the vacuum stopped that I realized all was not well in "Shiny Town." My neighbor was killing himself laughing and shouting things in Chinese to another amused onlooker. I could have died when I realized that the heat had rendered my brain temporarily nonfunctional. In desperation for air, I had opened the sliding glass patio door, completely oblivious to the fact that I was nearly naked.

I fell to the floor in horror and crawled to my bedroom to dress myself. I hid for the remainder of the day--not even reemerging to close the patio door--after all my neighbors had seen more than enough of me that day.