When I was just breaking into the writing field I decided to interview a young woman who had worked for us as a babysitter previously. She had a heartbreaking accident that left her debilitated - details of which I won't go into here so as not to reveal her identity.
She dropped by on the planned night and we decided to do the interview at a local bar/restaurant. Probably my first mistake. As this was a highly emotional topic and incident, we likely had a couple beers along with our Quesadillas. I remember the food well.
Once the interview was complete we were prepared to walk the half mile or so home but somehow detoured into the bar area. Well, by chance the owners of the bar were all congregating, drinking, and generally having a good time. I felt absolutely out of place - frumpy Mom out with the hard drinking crowd. I remember my feelings well and one of the owners (who admitted to me he was an alcoholic) said something to the effect like "Did you and I ever do it" - because you see he wouldn't remember. I shook my head No, because I would remember and resumed sitting sat at the high table. I remember distinctly looking over toward the bar and watching my interviewee down a shot or two - complete with liquor dribbling down her chin. Yikes!
O.K. So after a while of feeling really out of place, I told her that I had to get back. She agreed and we walked home with some creepy guy? seemingly following us most of the way home. When we arrived, she asked if she could spend the night - which seemed like a sensible idea given all the drinking. After I agreed and she didn't follow me in, she explained - 'Not now, I am going back out again.' Mistake number 2 or 3 - I've lost count.
Later that night, much later, I heard a scratching sound as someone tried to find the key hole in the front door. I think I got up and let her in.
By that time, I hadn't slept at all with all the drinking and scratching and all.
And the noise downstairs continued. Thumping, bumping you name it. Finally I was furious and ready to kick her out and descended the stairs to hear what I thought was the tap running. As I rounded the corner into the dining room, there was the subject squatted down on our Oriental carpet peeing - a large volume I might add. After some yelling - telling her to leave and the requisite clean up, the subject retreated to the couch in a dazed humiliation and refused to leave.
I don't think she was there the next day when I woke up but I do remember some crumpled up carnations as some sort of token apology. They might have even been the white ones with the green edging - like you see around St. Patrick's Day.
There's been a lot of pee on our carpets since then - so it's all under the bridge by now.
Unrelated thoughts
- You know its cold outside when you don't take your hat off in the car.
- I guess Tiger took that slogan "Just Do IT" to heart.
- When I related to an old friend that my mother should stop driving, he said, "She wasn't that good a driver to begin with" and we laughed because it's true. But I never remember her getting in an accident. Because she grew up in Bermuda (without cars) she didn't learn to drive until she was something like 28 years old. If there was a highway - she wasn't driving on it. If there was a snowflake threatening to fall, she didn't drive that day. If there was snow on the streets, FORGETABOUTIT.
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