I...was...going to say something but I forgot what it was. Oh yeah! My neighbor.
I have a very interesting neighbor. He is a middle-aged man who I am convinced sells some sort of narcotics out of his garage, who seems to be inebriated by said narcotics day and night, who has two beautiful children who almost fall to their deaths by riding they're tricycles off the stairwell that leads to the garages on a daily basis, whose wife/girlfriend/roommate/mother of his children/some random chick with large breasts takes out the cat litter in the most inefficient way by dragging a punctured trash bag full of feces and sand and urine all the way from their apt to the dumpster leaving a trail of you know what behind along with its pungent smell, who cannot let me walk by him, whether at the pool or below his balcony or in the parking lot, without saying "Hey neighbor!" in his delightful southern drawl that cancels out all of his previous somewhat irksome attributes, yet, to which, I never know exactly what to say.
I normally do not notice the man until he calls me, but I don't notice anyone until they call me, and even then I often unintentionally ignore them. I don't know if it's because I'm really self-absorbed or because I am basically blind, but I just don't pay attention to whether someone I am nearing is going to wave or say hello. When people say, "Hello!! Hannah! I've been waving at you for like 80!" I say, "Oh, sorry, I just have a lot on my mind right now," so I seem really important, as if I have a lot of very important things to think about, none of which concern those pedestrian acquaintances that want my attention. That is not the reason. I really don't know why.
So sometimes it takes two or three "Hello neighbor"s before I look to my left or above me or to my right and then notice and wave and say "Hi, how ya doin'?" and walk off.
A couple weeks ago I was walking into the gate when he was talking with some mysterious man in some mysterious car, probably doing some consulting for his business, when he puts his cigaretted hand into the air, "Hey neighbor!" "Hi." I open the gate to continue the long trek to my door. But he continues.
"You're so mean." He says this in a light-hearted way, of course.
"What?" I turn around and try to see through the tinted window of the Beamer to share a look with the driver to express my sorrow for holding him up.
"You're always scowling."
"I am?"
"Yeah. You always got this mean look on your face."
"Oh. Sorry. I have a lot on my mind. I don't realize."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm scared to talk to you!"
"Oh. Don't be. I'm nice."
"But you always look so mean. You're sister though, she's always happy."
"Yeah."
I was unfazed. Ever since I was a child I've encountered the whole, "You and you're sister are so different." And you just know they mean a good different. I was (am) the grumpy child, and my sister the happy one. Nothing could (can) bring that girl down.
A few days ago I turned the corner and almost ran right into him.
"A ray of innocence!"
"What?" I said.
"You. Are a ray of innocence."
"Oh. Thank you." Laugh.
"If I ever saw you rob a bank, I would pass out!" He clutches his heart as he says this.
"Oh." Laugh. "That...would be weird." I am inching away.
"I bet you never done nothing wrong."
"Well, you know, I'm a mysterious one." I turn around and walk away.
"Oh!" I hear him yell out laughing. "A devious one!"
So I really don't know what he takes me to be. For a long time, maybe a year, he couldn't distinguish me from my sister. Now he can; I think cause my hair is short and I wear glasses sometimes. But he is a very interesting man. I wish you could meet him.
[The Reader is one of the best movies I've seen in the theaters in a long time.]
No comments:
Post a Comment