Gladys

I was vacuuming out my car yesterday when my neighbor snuck up behind me. He and his wife are very nice people. They built a great deck outside last summer and sit out there and drink margaritas and laugh. When my dad died, they collected the flowers delivered to my door and kept them from dying in the cold when I wasn't home to get them.

We stood and talked for a bit. I haven't seen him to talk in quite a while. He's in insurance and we have some similar background, employment-wise. We talked about his daughter's wedding this summer. We talked about our other neighbor, who is a suspect in a murder, and the truck that is parked outside of his house all the time. We talked about his wife leaving for vacation in Florida for Spring Break with her friend down the street. Then...

"So, not to be nosy or anything, but do you have a new friend?"

My old boyfriend was at my house a lot. All the time. Because I never went to his house. Because it is disgusting. The floors were dirty, the carpet looked like it might've served in Bergen-Belsen and the shower curtain? Oh God. I think I just threw up in my mouth a bit. To think his new girlfriend and her child (her CHILD!!!) have moved into that den of iniquity?! I cannot imagine.

Anyway, he was at my house all the time. So they knew him by sight. They knew his car by site. We have a small neighborhood and they...well, they take notice of who is where and when.

So he asked the question. And I was struck dumb.

"Uh...well...uh..."

"Well, we'd seen a car and we thought...you know...really, not to be nosy..."

God help me, I wanted to ask him exactly what car he was talking about.

We stuttered through the rest of the conversation and he left to go help his son build a model train set or build a rocket or a weapon of mass destruction or something. I immediately got on the phone.

Jocelyn: He really asked you that?

Me: Yeah. I mean, I can appreciate the fact that they're looking out for me so wacko next door doesn't murder me in the night and no one finds me for a week. But come on!

J: You're living next door to the woman from Bewitched. Mrs. Kravitz. What was her first name?

Me: Gladys.

J: Just like Jimmy Durante. Who are we?

Me: I felt like I should just put a big McDonald's sign out front. You know, Twenty Million Served!

J: At least you don't have a take-a-number system, like at the deli.

Me: Excellent point. Thank you for that, at least.