My next door neighbor is a voluptuous twenty-something who is apparently dating the owner of a major, somewhat slimy used car dealership. As such, she has a constant stream of very expensive cars parked in her driveway and drives a very nice sports car herself. This has raised a lot of speculation as to the nature of her relationship – we see a lot of nice cars coming and going, she is frequently home during the day and out at night, and different men or groups of men go into her house at different times. You can form your own opinions, or you can call her at 1-900-BIG-RACK and ask her yourself.
Sorry, Mom. By rack, I, of course, am referring to a unit upon which things are stored. My neighbor is a very organized girl who has very visible and large shelving units.
Anyway, I’ve seen this girl in passing roughly seven million times in the past few months. In just the last week, she has gone in and out of her house while I have been outside working on my bike at least a dozen times. We never acknowledge each other, because I am a very unfriendly person and her overt femininity clashes wildly with my whole sweaty, messy-haired, sloppily-attired, dirty persona, but I am certain she has seen me. How could she have not? The sun reflects off my glowingly white skin so radiantly that I am like a solar panel visible from space.
But yesterday I happened to be outside in my work clothes, looking uncharacteristically composed and bathed. As I was walking from my car toward my house, she got out of her car and stared piercingly in my direction. “Hello?” she said questioningly, while looking like she was try to place me. “You used to live here but then you went away, right?”
I was completely lost. Based on the unique size of her shelving units, I was certain that this was the same girl I had seen dozens of times lately. But either she has the retention power of a squirrel or I look radically different when showered, because she was definitely looking at me like I was a long lost visitor.
“I met you around Christmas,” I explained, reminding her of the time that The Landlord, her, and I chatted for a while before our Christmas party. This seemed to ring a bell because she smiled and nodded, and then announced that I had cut my hair and lightened it.
An astute observation, as she was indeed correct. I did cut and lighten my hair. IN JANUARY.
We then had a typical female chat about hair color (she explained that she had darkened hers since our visit at Christmas, something I noticed several months ago) and I ended by saying, “It was great to see you!” Because it was. Today, and yesterday, and twice the day before that, and four times last week. Maybe she and I can schedule another reunion for six months from now, which will save me the trouble of saying hello again until then.