As I pull into my driveway after work, the first person I see is my neighbor, Landon Rossiter. I don’t even know where to begin to describe this pretentious nitwit. Actually, that’s pretty good. Just go to any online thesaurus and search for “pompous”. Landon’s a single, kid-less guy in his early 50s, who inherited tons of money from one of his grandfathers. He hasn’t worked in 8 years, has a pool in his backyard, and has parties almost every weekend. I’ve never been to one of his parties. If I’d known him before I moved into the neighborhood, I’d be living on another street.
At any rate, Landon is my neighbor who exudes pretentiousness. And here he is watering his shrubs in his flip-flops, yellow short shorts, and bright pink golf shirt. The worst part of his attire is the flipped-up collar on his shirt. And mirrored sunglasses…seriously? God, what a bonehead. My car can’t go fast enough up my driveway. If only I had an underground parking garage, I’d never have to listen to him.