Last week a gentleman came in looking for a lawn care & property services list as he wanted someone to look after his place for the summer. He insisted I give him our list of reputable service providers so I made certain not to give him the list of cutthroats and felons.
Then Sir seemed to feel the need to explain. I guess I have the sort of face that says "She doesn't get it, use little words and take your time, it's not like she's busy." I was subjected to a long list of complaints about living in Crown Isle, with Sir frowning sternly about how the properties have to be maintained just so and how one can't keep one's giant boat parked in the drive or allow one's grass to grow too long "...because the neighbourhood commission board are ... "
And here he paused. Searching for a word. Straining to find a way to communicate. I took pity and made a guess.
" ... Nazis?"
I guessed wrong. As the blistering silence spread outward from the two of us, a large vein in Sir's forehead began to throb. His eyes bulged and his Adams Apple began bobbing up and down, as though forcing himself to swallow something distasteful. The pause between us lengthened and I became aware of a strange, whistling sound. It was Sir, inhaling pure indignation into his lungs. When he spoke it was with barely controlled contempt.
"No. I mean fastidious. I don't have to drive down my street and look my neighbours' crappy cars and shoddy lawn care. Crown Isle looks the way a neighbourhood should. It's perfectly ordered and well maintained."
"So ... nothing like the Nazis, then?"
I didn't really say that. I am certain my expression did. What I actually said was "Okay! So, good luck with that list, have a nice day!" in the chipper tones of someone who parks a crappy car next to her shoddy lawn with the free spirit of an Allied national.
As I watched him goosestep away I reflected that it takes all sorts to make this funny old world go around. I'm so happy that most of them seem to find their way to me.
How sweet - a Stepford Husband :)
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