A few weeks ago we had a small neighborhood barbecue. The wife always wanted to have one, and I finally ran out of excuses to avoid my neighbors. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not antisocial. I just don’t always feel like socializing with people I can’t, to some extent, every really
escape. Neighbors are a peculiar thing. They can be really nice or really nasty, but either way they have a unique, constant insight into your life. As soon as you walk out that door, whatever you do outside, the way you keep your yard, the toys your kids play with, the things
you buy (boxes by the curb). So yeah not always gung-ho to get closer. Anyway. We had a barbecue. It was, I admit to the delight of my wife, rather pleasant. There weren’t a whole bunch of people (I was happy, she was a tad less so) which allowed for us to get to know our closer
neighbors better. By and large peaceful. Except for one couple. I’ll call them Bob and Sandra. They’re about one argument away from divorce. Why they decided to come to a pleasant social gathering together, who knows. It seems like they had just had a fight too. And we all could
tell. Anyway. All was going fine. But they were kinda quiet. Again, why would you come. Anyway. Bob made the mistake of starting to talk. He piggybacked off something another neighbor said about work. Bob mentioned his own work, which apparently involves roofing? I lost track.
Anyway, I don’t know if Bob like nailed (get it, roofing?) someone at work or their wife or something, but this holy lord above triggered Sandra. She started barely-passive aggressively talking about how work can actually cause more harm than good. In her experience. Sometimes
it brings things into your life that cause trouble. I’m paraphrasing because the longer and more dramatic version of this was somewhat surreal to watch and you know how sometimes in those situations you’re like “what’s happening?” and you start focusing more on whether what
you’re seeing is a dream than you are in keeping track of facts? Yeah. Anyway, this really odd back and forth went on for a minute or so (felt like an hour) before my wife, trying desperately to keep her beloved gathering on track, found a very sly way to change the subject.
Still proud of her for that. She managed to get her sister (a story for another day and an interesting case unto herself) and Sandra to go inside for a moment to help get more snacks. I turned to Bob after an awkward moment of silence. Asked him how things were. He laughed, hard
and said “oh just fucking great.” He broke open though. He and Sandra aren’t doing great. They’re not separating but it’s been a hard time, he tells me. It’s not work, and he was as confused by the outburst. They’ve been fighting incessantly ever since they found out that
Jeffrey Epstein didn’t kill himself.
