Dear Sweet Little Lady Across the Street Also Living in a 5th Floor Apartment,
Let me begin by saying that I wasn't raised in a barn. My mother tried her darnedest to make me a well-mannered lady and most days I do a pretty good job of making her proud. I was, however, raised in the country. No neighbors were close enough to see into our house. And we lived far enough off the road that even with the lights on at night and the blinds open, passing vehicles couldn't get a good view in. Even in college, I had no neighbors with views directly into my condo. So what I'm trying to say is that this big city living thing is new to me. But I suppose that is not really an excuse for what you had to witness last night.
I am pretty sure that DAR and Junior League clubs don't exist here in Belo Horizonte. But whatever group of ladies you were entertaining on your veranda yesterday evening looked quite cut out for either organization back in the States (and I was a Junior League girl myself back in Georgia so I'm not saying this like it's a bad thing.) I'm sure your late afternoon tea, or whatever you were hosting for all those well-dressed women, was going quite well and filled with polite discussion. I'm sorry that I probably ruined all that for you.
I'm not usually an exhibitionist. At all really. Unless you count these Brasilian bikinis you folks have got me wearing these days. And the thing is, I always keep the shutters pulled shut over the windows in my bedroom just to avoid these types of unfortunate incidences. But yesterday, I had been cleaning floors. I needed the extra light, so I opened the shutters and then forgot to close them. (I was distracted by chasing the dust bunnies which have taken to reproducing in my apartment these days.)
So see, yesterday evening started innocently enough. I had a hot date with my husband to go see Indiana Jones. Which I wasn't just super excited about (the movie itself that is), but it makes a dang good trade off since now he is obligated to go watch the Sex and the City movie with me next week. Sometime after dark yesterday, I took a shower to remove any dust bunnies still trying to procreate in my hair. Afterwards, I walked into my bedroom wrapped in a towel like a good modest girl. As usual, I dropped my towel once in my room and went about the business of finding my clothes for the evening. And that's where poor little you had to come into my life.
Being dark outside, I didn't even notice my shutters were open for the first little bit. After a few minutes, I remembered and rushed to the window to shut them. We first officially met as I got to the window and we made eye contact. I'm not sure who had the more terrified look on their face: me, you, or the other ladies who were looking over in disbelief too by now. But I've never been more excited to have dropped those 11 pounds or wished more that I'd already lost those remaining 5. But regardless of all that, no one eating biscoitos and sipping on tea or coffee should ever be subjected to that type of punishment. And I sincerely hope you can accept my apology.
Your Blushing Neighbor, Emily