I used to be 'that' neighbor. 😉
Our across the street neighbor, a bored, retired career soldier, was a "curtain twitcher"; I would jokingly call him 'Gladys Kravitz' (the nosy neighbor fron the American TV show "Bewitched".)
Back when I was a senior in high school and in the early years of post-secondary school community/commuter college, I was still living with my parents. This was in the early to mid 1980s, before word processors, affordable home computers, and online language apps.
To earn money for tuition, books, etc., I would tutor people who were taking English as a Second Language (ESL) classes. These were always one hour sessions. I also would help both native English speakers and ESL students write their class essays and other similar projects, then type them up afterward. The actual writing part of those papers would take hours. However, when they'd return for the typed paper, pick-up was a quick in-and-out. I did all this in the dining room at home, with the full knowledge of my parents. I should add that 85% or more of these people were male.
Anyway, "Mr. Kravitz" had had enough of watching the constant parade of people (mainly men) and felt he needed to confront my dad about 'things'.
"LadyLavinia's Dad, I hate to tell you this, but are you aware that your daughter is dealing drugs and possibly prostituting herself. I see men here all afternoon and evening. Some come empty-handed and leave immediately with a large envelope. Some come with a backpack and stay for an hour or much longer. I'm going to call the police, but I figured I'd give you a heads-up first." My dad, who could be a bit gruff, started chuckling, which turned into deep, rumbling laughter that could be heard inside the house.
I was waiting for someone to stop by to pick up a typed paper, so, of course, I had to open the front door to see what was going on. "LadyLavinia, would you come here please?" he asked, "Mr. Kravitz would like to speak with you."
I went out to the street where the two men were talking. Immediately, Mr. Kravitz started telling me how horrible drugs were, how I shouldn't be taking or selling them, and how I should respect myself more instead of "sleeping around'". Obviously, I had absolutely no clue what he was talking about. I turned and looked at my dad; he explained what Mr. Kravitz had told him. I instantly knew what I needed to do.
Being a bit cheeky, I turned to Mr. Kravitz explained, "I'm working my way through school by doing two things. Both pay quite well and I'm very good at them." Mr. Kravitz just sputtered. In his eyes, I just confirmed his suspicions, and my dad couldn't hold his laughter any longer.
At this time, the student I was waiting for showed up. He parked, came over and greeted my dad and I, and asked, "Is my stuff ready?". I asked him to wait while I went in and grabbed the 'illicit' Manilla envelope.
Under the watchful eye of my dad, and much to the shock of Mr. Kravitz, I handed him the envelope, and he handed me $100.00 and thanked me profusely. "If it wasn't for your little packages like this, I wouldn't be making it through school." Before he left, I reminded him that his research paper was due in six weeks, and since the professor wanted a minimum of 70 pages, not counting the index, bibliography, and proper footnotes, we needed to start on that as soon as possible.
I then turned to Mr. Kravitz said, "Yep. Like I was saying, as long as people have issues learning the English language and word processors are not affordable, I'll never be broke or out of two well paying jobs."
Have you ever been around a grown man who blushed so strongly that you could feel the heat radiating from him? How about one who stammered on for almost five minutes apologizing.
I have, and it was wonderful! 📚 📑 💰 🎓 😉