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For the record, I had dinner with my neighbors when I moved in, and they compared their college student-son (im not in college yet, not old enough, i dont think. im not twenty yet. im not...old) to a hibernating bear, a really ugly guy who was randomly walking by, and some other stuff that was completely random, and I don't really remember that well. This was how our conversation went:
Mrs. Neighbor: Oh, hello, do come in.
I, unknowing, walk in.
Mr. Neighbor: We are so happy to see you. This is James, our son.
Points to a small, sad-looking excuse for a human being. Oh, they also compared him to a turtle. You'll see why in a bit.
I roll my eyes inwardly, but smile, and sit down at the table.
James: Who are you?
Me: I am Taylor.
That's my name! I smile proudly.
James: So?
Seriously. Boys can be sooo naive.
Mrs. Neighbor: Be right back, I must go to the Water Closet. If I am not back in ten minutes, come check on me.
I give her a scared, disgusted look. What is with these old people? Is it always necessary to have a paranoia about dying at the simplest things when you get ancient? What are they going to die while taking a piss, or while checking their mail on the table? Even if they are, why share it with us?
Mr Neighbor: So, why don't we sit.
Take a look around ya, buddy.
Me: Okay.
Smiles sweetly and nods.
James: I'm in school. Going to Bradford.
Honestly, if I knew what Bradford was, I would tell you. I think it's a school.
Mrs Neighbor: I'm back everyone! Back.
What an accomplishement.
Me: How appealing.
Mrs. Neighbor suddenly has food in hand and starts putting it on the table. Before you could say "Tuck in", he's all over it. I dunno how such a little man could consume that amount of cabbage.
Mr. Neighbor: These college kids. Sleep and eat. That's all they do. Like hibernatin bears. Eat all they can, and sleep all they can.
Here it comes.
A very ugly, very short, very potbellied old drunk walks by, empty bottle in hand, taking a sip of his imaginary beer. What a thriller.
Mrs. Neighbor: James, you should have never gone to school. Chances are you'll end up worse than that man over there. Bet he's got a better life than you.
James: I bet so.
I make a smile/snarl thing with my mouth, not knowing whether to look pitiful or mockingly upon that unfortunate soul. He withdrew, into the high collar of his button up shirt, so all you could see was some fuzz that he probably called hair. You could hear him chewing his kippers under there, if you listened hard enough.
Mr Neighbor: Don't do that. You look like a turtle when you do that. Lift your head. Actually, a turtle would look better.
I couldn't agree more.
An arguement broke out among the disturbed family, and I muttered a thanks, nodded at my untouched food, and backed out slowly. Later they left me a note at me door saying:
Dear Taylor,
We are sorry about yesterday. Come over and pick up some leftovers. You look like you could use a meal. Or two.
James.
I never came. I think that punk might have flirted with me. > sad )
 Tilly_Witch · Mon Jan 29, 2007 @ 10:25pm · 0 Comments |
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