Okay so let me preface this entry by saying that among the many, many blessings we’ve been given in our short time at the new place of residence, NG is by far the best of them. He is friendly, kind, generous and knowledgeable about a wealth of things. He has a sweet daughter and a nice wife. I like him quite a bit.
That said, let me open a window into my little world.
To wit: I work in NoVA on Mondays, as you may or may not know. Nephew de lurve was here hanging out with the dudes who are re-doing the kitchen. After a hellish 75 minute ride home in torrential rain, thunder and lightening, I was surprised to see that almost NO rain had fallen in our little village. I wasn’t home more than five minutes when NG calls. If you remember, NG has a few beers too many some days and by 8pm is pretty much, shall we say, inebriated. He called over to check that I got home safe and that all was okay. Said the rain is coming and to make sure my windshield blades were nice and clean (?). Uh, okay. Will do. Then he elaborated about how he liked to open up the doors on his garage to let the cool air through. Uh, okay. Whatever makes you happy, dude.
So, we end the convo and J and I go off to eat some KFC that I brought home for dinner. Phone rings. Caller ID says NG. I make Justin answer it because I can. (tee hee) NG rambles on and on and bloody on about opening the windows upstairs to let the breeze through like he does for his garage. Sure thing. I’ll go right up there and do it. NOT. I mean, after all, we had on “What not to wear” and were happily snarfing fried chicken and critiquing some guy with long hair.
Not five minutes later, phone rings. Guess who? NG again. I am forced to answer since J did last time (dammit! Where’s my faux-parental priveleges when I need them?). NG tells us to go close all the windows we just (supposedly) opened because the humidity was creeping back in. I said “sure thing. I’ll ask Justin to close them” and cracked up. It was so funny.
If we listened to his drunk ass, we’d be up and down the steps opening and closing windows and changing wiper blades and God knows what else. Jeebus!
Is it mean for me to have messed with him just a tiny bit? I answered and when he started drunkenly rambling, I said “Who is this?” (haha) and he said “Greg” like he was all hurt that I didn’t know it was him. I replied “Are you sure?”
Am I going to hell for messing with a drunk guy like that? :)