It's your turn to talk.
Category: Misc.

I’ve been told that I probably shouldn’t write about my neighbors. I was, of course, told this by… well… my neighbors. They’re nice people who were, in fact, trying to protect me from myself (something that my wife has tried to do without luck for many years). I believe that the comment he made after reading my site was something to the tune of “Wow -- You really turn into the crash.” She, on the other hand, is herself a blogger. As such, she understands the siren-like calling that comes when your life throws oddity your way.

Anyhoo, I’ve also been told that I shouldn’t swim right after eating but that has never stopped me.

In any case, since the following isn’t “technically” about the neighbors and I really needed to share, I thought I’d pass it along.

Living in Redmond, you get used to odd interactions with people. Let’s face it – just because people can program doesn’t mean that they have a whit of social skill. So common is the odd human interaction that you start to think it normal

With that said, I had a doozie the other day.

Being the friendly neighbors that my wife and I are, we ventured over to greet the newest addition to our little neighborhood. Freshly-baked cookies in hand we moseyed up to an open garage filled with boxes and a sole man. It being Sunday evening and there being no sign of a moving truck; we came to the conclusion that we were now in the presence of the newest homeowner.

“Welcome,” I said as I handed him the M&M cookies.

He somewhat reluctantly took the cookies and looked at me. In the verbal game of tag, he was now “it.” Perhaps he didn’t understand the rules. I talk. You talk. I talk. You talk. He instead went with the less popular choice of silence and a stare.

“Well.... We’re the neighbors in this house (pointing to our house), and we just wanted to welcome you.”

He was starting to pick up on the game. This time he spoke.

“OK.”

I have to admit that, at this point, I was a little flustered. I wasn’t expecting my turn to come so fast and to be accompanied by so little material with which to work. I once again said “Well. Welcome.”

At this point he explained that he was just a friend and that the owners were inside. For a brief second I was encouraged by the progress, but then he stared again. No offer to relay our well wished came. No offer to retrieve the homeowners came. All that came was silence.

It was time to retreat. I politely said something like “Well… you’ll make sure that they get those?”

He nodded and we walked home in silence.

I know that you never give gifts for the thank-you. However, I can’t tell you how odd it is to hand someone homemade cookies and instead of the customary “Thank you” you receive a silent stare.

ODD!

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