My neighbor insists on no curtains on the windows. We sat in my kitchen drinking the only coffee I could find; most of my stuff was still packed into boxes. “I think this is Colombian dark roast,” I said uncertainly.
She sipped, made a face, then sipped some more. “Definitely French Roast,” she said. “I deplore French Roast.” She took another sip, made another face.
My husband, the coward, had scuttled from the room only seconds after the Grand Lady had shown up at the door bearing a basket of stale welcome biscuits, and a scowl. I scanned the pile of boxes in vain looking for the proper labels. “I’m so sorry. I do have a box hiding my Tassimo, and another two with a plethora of coffees from around the world. There would definitely be something you liked in there,” my voice trailed off.
She scanned the room as well, the look on her face as critical as the one my great aunt Margaret used to wear when she was looking for something to be disappointed by. “My, my, you do have a lot of work ahead of you,” she muttered, as if somehow everything should have already been completed. “Tassimo…hmm, I can’t say I much like Japanese coffee either.”
I quickly explained to her that Tassimo was not the coffee, just the maker. I had cartloads of coffee pods which went with the machine. “You see, it’s just modern technology,” I finished nervously. Why was I so intimidated by this woman with the blue hair, the ratty mink coat, and the half-moon glasses? Damn, it was my mother’s fault, hers and her hypercritical aunt’s.
“You see,” my neighbor said with a caustic smile, “I must insist that you do not put any curtains up whatsoever. The sun comes up behind this house,” she waved her hands around the room. “And if you had curtains I would miss out on its glorious morning rays.”
I stared at her in disbelief. Was she joking? She must be joking. Was this some kind of prank the neighborhood played on the newcomer? I sighed. Meeting people on Facebook was so much easier than this real-life stuff. There was much to be said for online social media. Whenever I ran across a troll like this all I would have to do was Unfriend her and all my troubles would be over.
“Well,” I chuckled. “I suppose we could keep a couple of curtains open for you during the time of the year when the sun is in that particular spot. Of course it will depend on what my daughter and husband have to say about it.”
She looked up at me over her half-moons, lips tight, scowl in place, hands grasping the top of the smooth, yellowed swan’s head on her cane. “Young lady,” she said. “I do not expect you to understand the rules immediately, but as you have taken up residence right beside me, it behooves you to learn them soon. There will be no consultation of the husband. There will be no discussion with the daughter. I insist that your entire house be devoid of all coverings, window or otherwise.” She grabbed her stale biscuits with one claw-like hand, her mahogany swan-cane with the other, and stood up. “Now that the matter is settled I must go and speak to my neighbor on my other side about her abysmal lack of garden gnomes.” She swept out of the house with a swish leaving a trail of mink fur and bobby pins in her wake.
“Is she gone?” my husband asked as he peeked around the corner.
“Chicken shit,” I said.
He had the decency to look chagrined. “So was she the Welcome Wagon?” he asked hopefully
.
“Yeah, if the Welcome Wagon was bat-shit crazy, then she was the Welcome Wagon.” I dragged both hands through my hair. God I wish I could AutoCorrect this last visit like my iPhone corrected my messages. Crazy would change to delightful.
Image Credit
“Old Biddy” by Irish Country Lad. Creative Commons Flickr. Some rights reserved.
Ask me about my neighbours some day. Not only is our kid not good enough to play with their kids, but our dog is not good enough to play with their dog. Also, have not learned how to say “thank you” when someone gives them a bag full of home-grown tomatoes. But I’m not bitter.
Have you considered waiting for the tomatoes to ripen then toss them over one by one? :p
And at high speed. I like tat our neighbours are at binoculars length from us so this kind of interaction is a no go. Not to mention that we’ve met and mostly just don’t have to say anything about each other’s lives.
The neighbour in this story is the kind who needs to be defied at all reasonable moments.