Every time I saw him peering over I'd be "hey, how are you doing?", and then start talking about inane crap like the best kind of suspenders to wear or the NFL draft.
At best, you discover he just has poor social skills and he ends up being an ok guy, at worst he learns that looking over the fence means he has to listen to you rattle on and on about nothing.
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Better educated sadness than oblivious joy.
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