Neighbor Favor

I like to think of myself as a pretty thoughtful person.  I try to be aware of people, help them in need, and give when I can.  Of course, that statement should probably come with the specifications that I try to be so aware of people that I become obsessed with trying to predict their wants and needs till I'm immobilized with fear; I help if it's convenient for me; and I give a spare dollar or two (never more than that unless the person has a really clever sign- then I might up it to a fiver).

So it's not surprising that I put myself in situations where my want to be liked and helpful collides with my neuroses and selfishness.  Take what happened a few years ago for an example...

I had been living down here in Sarasota for a year and had gotten friendly with the neighbors in our apartment complex.  By friendly, I mean I was at a point where if I was out walking Georgia or getting the mail, I would at the very least politely wave and smile with any passerby.  For a select few, I was able to hold down a 5 to 10 minute long conversation, learn their names and some tidbits about them.  But I never really crossed the barrier into real "friendship" with anyone, which was fine with me.  It was a pretty transient complex, with people constantly moving in and out, so I figured I could get away with an amiable smile and quick chat until it was our turn to move on.

However, there was one girl who I think wanted to take our friendship to the next level.  

She was a sweet thing;  a mother with two kids and a husband who took far business trips.  Since I worked from home she often saw me in the morning when I was walking Georgia while she was out walking her mother's dog.  We would chat about the weather, our pets, our significant others, and whatever else.  Like I said, she was/is very nice.

I think I realized things were getting serious when she kept suggesting I come over to her apartment sometime for a coffee and tea to chat some more.  I always thanked her, but never went over.  For one, I had just begun working from home and didn't want my office to think I was already slacking and leaving my post.  Secondly, and this probably solidifies my assertion that I'm a crazy terrible person, but I just didn't see a future there.  We were such different people- she was almost ten years older with kids and a husband, plus when I asked where she liked to go out and do for fun, she said she didn't really enjoy going out.  That's fine, of course, not everyone enjoys going out.  But then I would try and feel out her humor endurance, tossing out a blue joke here or there and see if she reciprocated.  She would just politely smile and change the subject.

That was my final straw.  You're a mom?  Cool.  You don't like going out to events or partying?  That's fine.  You don't enjoy sometimes tasteless jokes or some level of inappropriateness- I got nothing for you.   Because that's me.  And if you can't handle that, then you don't really want to know me.

So I was content to just keep our relationship uber friendly and easy.  And then one day, she upped the ante.

She grabbed my attention one morning and explained that she had been feeding the local stray cats in the complex.

"But now we are leaving for that trip to Italy for a month and I'm worried the poor things are going to starve," she said with dismay in her eyes.  Uh oh.  There's the wind-up...and the pitch.  "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind feeding them for me while we're gone?" 

I could feel my inner voice screaming at me, even after I smiled absently and nodded.  She looked so relieved and happy, I couldn't take it away from her.  After she gave me instructions on where the food would be and how she would have it pre-measured for my "convenience", she said, "I can pay you for this, if you like."

This time my inner voice gave me the silent treatment when I waved off her offer.  "No, don't be silly," I wheezed.  She beamed as she thanked me profusely again and then walked off.  I meanwhile was simmering.  How the hell do I get out of this one? I thought.  You can't, you idiot.  Enjoy putting out smelly food for a bunch of stray cats for the next month, I grumbled to myself as I walked back to our apartment.

I immediately texted Joe, my voice of reason, on what I did.

"Silly girl," he texted, "just tell her you can't.  She's not supposed to be feeding those cats anyway.  She would get in trouble and so would you."

"But I already told her I would.  I even told her she didn't have to pay me," I texted back.

"Silly girl, you could've def taken the money.  It's a big pain to have you go to her apartment and feed cats for a whole month," he texted.  I felt stuck.  And awful.  I didn't want to go back on my word but I also didn't want to commit to something for the next month either.  And I would've felt like a royal ass to go knock on her door and tell her I changed my mind.  

So I did the next best shameful thing.  I wrote her a note and slipped it under her door.  In it I apologized but said I was just worried about us getting in trouble with the apartment complex and hoped she would understand.  I carefully pushed the letter under her door and ran like the dickens back to my apartment.  

I prayed that she would simply read the note, acknowledge me as either a weirdo or welsher (both of which were true), and toss it aside.  Instead, a few hours later I saw her leaving her apartment and coming towards mine.  I panicked and grabbed the dog and hid in the guest room.  When she knocked on the door, Georgia started barking and leapt out of my hands.  I considered hiding until she left, but considering I would most definitely run into her again once she got back from her trip, it would be best to clear the air now. 

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi..." I said.

"Hi, I just wanted to let you know that if you are uncomfortable doing that then that's totally fine.  I didn't want you to think I would ask you to do something if I thought it would get you in trouble.  I just wanted to make sure you knew that," and there it was.  That kind genuine smile.  It was like salt on the wound.  

"Oh, I know.  I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said yes when I wasn't sure..." I stammered, trying to avoid her eyes, but she reassured me that everything was fine.  I felt so much better; I had wormed my way out of a monthly task and I didn't have another neighbor hate my guts.  I was a winner.

"Would you possibly mind doing something else for me, though?' she asked.

So, in the end, I got away with just going into her backyard and watering her numerous plants for her.  She even left out jugs of water that she had pre-filled for my "convenience".  And it wasn't all for nothing after all.  

I got about four pounds of Italian chocolate for it.