Our next door neighbors here are so close that our porches sit side-by-side. We’re outwardly friendly, but like the big ole hypocrites we are, we avoid them with dodges and weaves worthy of any prizefighter in the ring.
Outwardly, they seem like friendly people,
but he’s a vocal conspiracy theorist and she has the lack of awareness that
caused her to duck under police tape to photograph a suicide that occurred here
a few years back. And I know this because I saw it.
So.
Knock, knock. There was S. at our door. His wife’s 70th was
coming and would we join them for a building-wide lunch for the event.
There are 12 units in our building,
but I didn’t expect a big turnout. And how sad would it be if no one went? So,
after processing all plausible excuses, I said yes, we’d be happy to go.
At first, it was planned for a
pleasant breakfast/lunch spot with wonderful food like avocado toast, healthy
smoothies, not a hash brown in sight. Then there was a change of venue:
Before we left for the event, I went
on-line to see if there was anything, anything that wasn’t brown and/or
fried. An omelet, maybe? Nope. Aha! Some kind of egg scramble with mushrooms.
Only nine people were there, including
the happy couple, with one man who wasn’t even from our building, but at least
there were enough to make it feel festive. And most importantly, My Guy and I were
at the farthest end, sitting next to the nice neighbors who live on the other side of
us.( They’re quite old, but interesting. I should write about her sometime –
she’s a nutritionist who’s overseen some of the food that went up in the first
moon mission.)
Turned out, they’d spiced up my eggs
to the point where they didn’t even taste like eggs and the apples on the side
had a tinny, chemical tang. But all wasn’t lost. The grits were great. So, my
healthy lunch was basically a biscuit and grits.
Still, plenty of shopping opportunities
in the endless gift shop you have to wend you way through before you get
anywhere near the restaurant.
Note the SkyBar.
Moxie, a (I think un-drinkable) New England phenomenon.
And lots
of sister-wife kind of dresses.
I think almost everyone has one of those neighbors. Ours are across the street. Three adults, who each has his own personality that makes it difficult to interact with. Consequently, we always check from the window before we go out into our front yard…..just to lessen the chance of encountering one of them. We go to the street to collect our mail after dark. The most undesirable one of the three managed to wheedle his way into our house on a pretense with my husband when I was away. I told my husband, “Now you've done it. There will be no end to this.”. He is very pushy and knows no boundaries.
ReplyDeleteGood grief-they must be awful. At least we’re only here in Florida for part of the year.
DeleteHaha, it's nice that you went, your neighbors sound like a real trip. And Cracker Barrel is a popular place for seniors up here in Pa... but I don't know why. 🙄
ReplyDeleteCracker Barrel must have some dishes they do well. But there’s a limit to how much brown food I want to consume.
DeleteI swear to God I think they microwave half their menu!
DeleteDid you go home with a sister-wife dress? No? Well, at least a bottle of Moxie?
ReplyDeleteNo, sadly my wardrobe is still without a high-necked, knee-covering shapeless mass of gingham.
DeleteGood on you for going, you get Nice Points™ for that, but then to endure the Cracker Barrel? At least it won't be a weekly experience.
ReplyDeleteI think any Nice Points were cancelled out by my churlish attitude.
DeleteI have a 90th birthday "duty" to attend next weekend and she loved the cake I made last year and would like the same this year please. It's fiddly to make but luckily delicious and worth the effort.
ReplyDeleteI guess at 90 you’re allowed to direct people to make the cake you like!
DeleteWell, good for you for going, painful though it may have been. I had no idea Cracker Barrel sold so much random stuff. I remember the jingle for Charleston candy bars from TV!
ReplyDelete