Wednesday, March 21, 2007

The neighbor

Yesterday I realized that I have a handsome neighbor. I'm quite sure it would never work out between us, for reasons I'll list later, but if we DID fall in love and got married and had children who were reasonably normal, we could tell our grandchildren how we met!
And it wouldn't be in a chat room or eharmony or at a bar or at the welfare office! Here is how we met. Yesterday.

My mail box had somebody else's mail in it. After figuring out which unit was the correct recipient of the mail, I remembered that the person/people there always have something fabulous being prepared for dinner. By the time I get home and walk past the door, which is always open, I WISH someone would step out and offer me some dinner. Then I get to my own apt, and well. There isn't anything to eat.

I approached the door the next night, and saw that it was open. I knocked on the screen door. There was movement in the living room. A guy was on the phone. He looked towards the door like I was a lot lizard and he was Pat Robertson, and asked if I needed something. "Um, they gave me your mail. I put a note on it, but the next time I opened my box, the note was gone and the mail was still there. So I thought I'd just bring it over." By this time, he was at the door, pushing it open, and sticking his hand out. I offered him the mail, which he took with his other hand, and kept his right hand extended for a congenial shake, saying, "Oh thanks a lot."

"I'm sure you know my name is Barney..." I interrupted him, clasping his hand. "No, I didn't know your name, I don't think we've ever met." He looked confused for a minute. "Isn't it on my mail, here?" Doh. "Oh, yes, of course, ha ha ha...." I said.

What's up with men and their FIRM, DEATH-LIKE grips? All you have to do is make sure the other person's fingers don't slip out of yours for a couple seconds. Oh, whatever, this isn't beautiful, so I shouldn't even talk about it. Since it is the story of HOW WE MET.

We both shared a pleasant giggle. OK, I laughed nervously, I can't remember what he was doing. Then he said, "But what is your name?" "My name's MH, I live right over there. Very nice to meet you, Barney." He said thanks and all of that.

So. Just in case that girl I've seen over there sometimes is just his sister, who knows what we may tell our grand kids someday? Except oh wait. It wouldn't work out!

1. He is obviously financially responsible. He has the same credit card that I do, and his statement was like one piece of paper, unlike mine. That tells me they don't have much to say to him, unlike what they say to me every month. Plus, he drives an OLD Toyota Camry. Plus, his apartment is tiny. See, I can't be with financially responsible guys because they are the ones who always insist on going dutch all the time. It's FINE going dutch, but they also try to get in your pants at the same time. Selfish and selfish.

2. Hm. I still think that's his girlfriend I see sometimes.

3. He LOOKED me up and down. Is that how he usually looks at women? If so, I know I'd be pissed off every time we went to the movies. He'd be ogling all of the young ladies, and would forget about me. I know the type.

4. I think he's at least a few years younger than I am. Once he found out that I'm old enough to have followed the Grateful Dead around for a couple summers (if he knows who they were), it would be over.

5. He's most likely a MUCH better cook than I am. Actually, that might be great!

6. His apartment is always SPOTLESS. Warning! Warning! Obsessive Compulsive Disorder! He'll expect women to be perfect, and he definitely would faint if he saw my apartment as it is right now.

I could probably think of many more reasons why it wouldn't work out.

But he sure is cute!

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