We the Women and, of course, Wilson

A word, first, about the neighbor. He didn't want his picture taken, certainly not his name used. Well, so sorry about the picture. You are a great guy. You bring cookies, and therefore, are allowed, welcomed, to hang out with the women, their aides, and maybe a gay guy or two. Since you are a lot like the mysterious neighbor from Tool Time, I have decided to call you Wilson. It is my blog.
It's not about you, though. It is about the Women's Club, that loosely gathers around Lorena's pool in the afternoons, and are waited on by Evaristo and Christian. That's Renee from Montreal, a regular, with Christian, Evaristo and Lorena.
There are more of us, including Rosemary, Lisa, Kay. Anyone who brings and leaves a chair. Our staff of cabana boys will make drinks, run errands to town, help Lorena if you want a salad. Christian meanwhile is also baking croissants and breads. He can snag one right out of the oven.
Yes, we pay Lorena for our food and tips the boys. But it is a lot cheaper than a day at Zama and the company is great. All differences are to be left at the street. No disagreeable behavior allowed. Yes, there is a cat. But you cannot be catty and belong to this women's club!