“Now, you’ve got to be on your best behavior,” I told Maggie who was licking her paws on the couch. “No barking like ape shit bananas at 2am in the morning.”
Maggie didn’t pay me one bit of attention and went back to the methodical grooming of her appendages. They have finally sold Joyce’s house after it having been vacant for years and years.
“Andrew Quixote,” I said to the elderly, short, and plump white lady who answered the door. She kind of looked like a little potbelly stove. “I’m your next door neighbor.”
The lady eagerly told me her name and asked me to come inside.
“There is not much to sit on just yet,” she told me apologetically. “They deliver my furniture tomorrow.”
Boxes of stuff were everywhere.
“I can’t stay,” I told her with an earnest smile. “Y’all let me know if you need help with anything. We are real neighborly around here.”
What I did is very hard for me to do socially – facing the social unknown. They could’ve been rude and unruly knocking me off the pedestal of social courage I had built for myself to sit upon.
The Fried Green Tomato…
That’s where Laura wants to eat this week – a little country buffet place in Lagrange called The Fried Green Tomato.
“It’s delicious!” she exclaimed over the phone last night. “They have the best country cooking and down home food. You’ll love it!”
“Sounds like my kind of place,” I replied, loving a good buffet.
It certainly sounds more agreeable with my wallet than Longhorn Steakhouse. I wanted to know if they have meatloaf and Laura said they always do.
1 comment:
Your a good neighbor..not many people would do that.
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