A neighbor who falls in that in between zone between friend and acquaintance ran into my husband while they were both out dog walking recently. Oh, we'll have to get together she said, what are you doing this weekend? My husband said she should call me, the designated social planner (although he didn't put it that way). Which she did.
We met at a neighborhood restaurant we both like. They were a bit late in arriving and I noticed immediately she was different. Very "up', very gregarious. Did she have a drink or two before coming? Was it possible she was already a bit drunk?
It got worse. She had maybe a glass or two of wine during dinner and became very uninhibited. She dislikes mutual neighbors, something I long suspected. Frankly, my husband and I feel the same way about these neighbors but for different reasons.
Now, imagine our neighbor, sitting beside me, across from our husbands. She is sophisticated and well dressed. Her neighborhood "walking the dog" outfits tend toward Ralph Lauren polo with soft Italian leather loafers. She had a fabulous dress on that that night, maybe designer but I'd never know.. The restaurant is a sedate white table cloth French place, catering to an older crowd. The French abhor noisy loud Americans - I learned that from a few visits there years ago.
My friend/neighbor would attract attention solely by her appearance. On this evening, looking fabulous and glamorous, she was loud. She dominated the conversation at our table, getting louder and louder. At some point she became quasi-incoherent. I couldn't understand what she was saying. It was not slurring, just that the words didn't go together coherently, like a psychotic stream-of-consciousness. She was loud. Guess I already said that.
At one point my friend/neighbor said. What's that woman looking at me for, I'd like to punch her lights out. I didn't dare look, but I knew the table she was talking about. Two large and dowdy women were having a special occasion dinner with their husbands. Surely, they disapproved since my friend was saying f*****g this and that. And she was gorgeous to boot.
Then, I had to laugh. About the neighbors she hates she said loudly , "She's a f*****g Republican and he's a spy." I wondered what the dowdy table thought of that bon mot. Actually, I was more concerned about our very French waitress who seemed chagrined.
In the parking lot my neighbor walked me to the car and said, I've suffered with depression my whole life but this new medicine is terrible. I've gotta call my psychiatrist tomorrow and change my prescription.
On the way home, perplexed and intrigued, I asked my husband, Do you think he's really a spy? CIA? Naw, said my husband.
An evening or two later, as I was weeding our front garden in the dimming light, the husband of our loud neighbor walked by with their dog. I almost never see him. This was an intentional bump-into thing on his part. He stopped, we chatted about everything...upcoming vacations, recent storms in our neighborhood, our dogs, even the delicious meal we had at the French restaurant. The elephant in the living room was his wife's behavior at dinner. We never discussed that. He lingered too long and I was waiting for an entre but it never came. Surely, I couldn't bring anything up. As I write this, it strikes me, I should call her. She is in some kind of distress. But I hesitate.
Then, before this blog post was finished, she called me. Apologized. No need to say that, I said, we had fun and we have all have had those experiences. Maybe it was drug interaction or dehydration said she. Amen. Smart that she called.
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