9.27.2008

Socially Unfit

Sometimes, I really misjudge a social situation. Like today, at a neighbor child's birthday party. Amid Barbie cakes and cheap decor, I decided to make friends. I took a deep breath and avoided the mom who bore a striking resemblance to a stripper I knew in Houston. And stayed away from the mother of one of Nicholas' friends, who is such a 'low talker' all I can do is smile-and nod-and-hope she isn't uttering something of great importance regarding national security or the secret to potty training. I finally found my quarry. My backyard neighbor. I had wanted to befriend her for months; so, I jumped right in. There had never been a better moment to make a new friend. I settled right next to her on the couch, leaned in and told her what I'd been wanting to share for months...how delighted I am she doesn't close her blinds. "Because my husband is usually gone,"I explained, "And I don't feel so alone when I see you puttering about at night." Now, I meant this as a bonding moment, I feel like I know her quite well, having seen her wash dishes every night for the past year; even though we've only met face to face once. "I feel like I REALLY know you," I told her conspiratorially. I thought with such an astute observation and soul searing honesty, she would feel mutually comfortable with me. We'd be instant friends. Maybe we'd devise hand signals to keep each other informed of our evenings; a non-verbal give and take of high-fives and secret sign language, while doing our evening domestic rituals. We could wave back and forth and occasionally hold our wine glasses up in the air as a salute of sorts, so neither of us ever had to drink alone (not that I'm judging her.) After sharing my confidences, I waited expectantly for her outpouring of emotion. She muttered something under her breath that ended in, "....so sweet."
I'm not sure if I explained myself well enough, because tonight, for the first time, ever, she closed her blinds. Hmmmm. Even though I'm sad to be mopping the kitchen floor alone tonight, I am thankful I have learned not share everything upfront. This suburbia-friendship-thing is hard, but I'm catching on. Just imagine if I had told her I made up names for each of her family members and occasionally talk to them, too. That might seem creepy.

6 comments:

Allyson said...

Oh no, I think I just woke up Cole--I laughed so loud after reading the last two lines. Sorry that situation didn't go well! But thank for sharing; it was hilarious, as usual.

GapGirl said...

are you serious!!! She CLOSED HER BLINDS!!! If I were her, I would have totally made up secret hand codes so we could have talked thru the window. When Jason was in the Air Force my neighbors hubby and mine were always deployed. We would put our babies to bed (she lived across the street from me) and we would plug our monitors in an outdoor outlet and put the volume up high and sit on out front porch together and sip wine and chat all night!!! Come move to twin creeks, we will wave thru our windows and chat. SHame on her, she sucks!!!

Anonymous said...

She has no idea what a great friend she is missing out on!!!
Vicki

30 Something Gal said...

OMG, that is too funny. It's unfortunate she wasn't bright enough to pick up on your social advances since you only had good intentions!

On the other end of the spectrum, you could have my problem: an overly friendly, chain-smoking, single gal neighbor who recently made it known that she's a lesbian. Guess who's attention she caught...that fiance I'm living with! All she had to say was "lesbian" and his ears perked up. LOL.

inexplicableways.com said...

Or you could contend with my neighbors: the gun-shooting, four-wheelin', coon-dog owners or the alzheimer lady who keeps wandering the street in her nightgown pursued by a sleepy police officer.

She may have closed her blinds but I bet she's peeking through...

Ryan and Amanda K. said...

Hey...you could have gotten a Big D on your hands. Be glad! LOL!!!