“The Woman Who Loved Sophie Too Much”, AKA, “Areola”, has moved out of the apartment next to me. I am sure Sophie is more upset than I am. Not only did her breasts almost flop out onto Sophie’s head every time she would pet her, but she always had dog treats she passed out like they were free. (she worked at PetCo, so maybe she knew something I didn’t…)
I just intimated that Sophie was happy to have boobage almost plopping on her head…. I don’t know that Sophie likes that at all. We don’t role play that when we are home alone. I am speaking more from my perspective as the dog owner who was fearful this was about to happen on a regular basis.
Sidenote: I almost told her to just flop one of them out on the day she told Sophie goodbye. Just because. I grinned the entire time she was bent over thinking about saying it.
I always thought that perhaps she didn’t have all the synapses connecting because she missed a lot of “normal” social cues. For example, it’s 5:30 pm on a weekday. I arrive home carrying a Jucy’s Taco bag and a large drink. What would you do in this situation if you walked out of your door and saw me?
1. Walk to my door and stand there telling me how glad Sophie must be to have me home since she is barking her head off. “She must be so happy because she hadn’t barked all day long. I heard her barking and came outside to check and see if you were home. Sure enough, it’s you. She is so excited for you to be home.” Etc., etc.
2. Smile, perhaps even wave, and go back inside your own apartment so I can get inside mine and eat while my food is hot.
Typically, one would choose option 2 because that is what considerate people do, or people of have a strong grasp of social etiquette.
Another strange thing was that she was in the process of getting her driver’s license. She was 25 and had failed the driving test twice. Her husband, who is 63, and her old college professor, bought her a brand new SUV as incentive. She did all her driving with her husband as her co-pilot, as required by Texas law. Her husband took a job in Houston, thus the relocation, and he let her navigate her SUV back and forth to Houston in the months ahead of the move. One day I was forced into small talk and mentioned that she was going to be driving in Houston. Her response was, “Oh, I love driving in Houston! I just go get in this one lane, and zoom, I am passing everybody!”.
1. One does not simply ever love driving in Houston. Ever.
2. I don’t think she realizes that she can’t use the HOV lane once she gets her DL and is driving solo
It’s been a full week since they moved. I haven’t waxed melancholy yet. My gut instinct is that I won’t. My son walked to my apartment for lunch today and texted me while I was at work, “If you play your cards right, your new neighbors might just give you a beer out of their cooler which they have set up right outside the door.” Ah, new neighbors. I have mediocre hopes that they are cool & fabulous. Like me.