I have great hope for the future of this house:

It sold recently, which means I’ll be getting a new neighbor.  I’m so excited I could pee.  It’s like opening a present on your 10th birthday.  What’s inside?  Could be that awesome Atari 2600 you’ve dreamed of owning.  More likely it’s another hideous sweater from Grandma.

Once our neighbors take occupancy, I shall shower them with snooty beer and stinky cheese.  Later we’ll set up playdates for the kids, complain about traffic noise, and feign outrage at $500/month heating bills.  Oh the times we’ll have!

Or maybe I’ll play it cool.  Shorty after we moved to Pittsburgh, our backyard neighbor invited us over for an impromptu (sausages on the grill) dinner.  Caught in the enthusiasm of the moment, I upped the ante.  “Great!”, I said, “I just bought some strip steaks…you can grill them too.”  During dinner our host asked, “What do you think of this beer?”  Excited to display my grand beer palate with a fellow beer enthusiast (alas he was not), I went into detail as to the multidimensional failings of his chosen brew.  I believe that was our last conversation.  A lesson for the socially retarded:  Neither upstage a man’s meat, nor insult his beer.