Dear crazy-neighborhood lady,
I should first point out that you aren’t crazy in the clinically, mentally deranged sort of way, but there is something slightly off with you. So, my apologies for not knowing exactly what to call you. This is what I know about you: you ride a bike, wear a green helmet, live in my neighborhood and you love my dog. But, here’s the kicker…. you and I have the same conversation over and over again. It is the Groundhog’s Day of conversations. To me, it’s a bit nutty that this happens, let alone time and time again. It makes me think that perhaps the lights are on, but no one’s home. Or maybe, you just don’t have the social normalcy that you probably should have at this stage in your life. Let me paint a picture for you to let you know how this interaction happens.
You are on your bike and you are wearing an army green helmet. I am walking my adorable dog, Binnie. As soon as you see Binnie, you get off your bike. Then, verbatim, this is what happens:
Crazy lady with green helmet: Oooooooh my, what a cute dog you have. Is she friendly?*
*(You ask after you have already stuck your face in Binnie’s face. Thankfully, for you, she’s a sweetheart)
Me: Thanks. I certainly think so.
CLWGH: Oooooooh, what a love. Is she a puppy?
Me: No, she’s an adult – a rescue. We think she’s about 8, but we’re not sure.
CLWGH: I’m not allowed to have dogs in my building. I have a cat, but it’s not the same.
Me: That stinks you can’t have a dog. They are wonderful companions.
CLWGH: What’s her name?
CLWGH: Is she a pitbull?
Me: We think so, but again, she’s a rescue, so who really knows.
CLWGH: Binnie – you look like you have a great life!
Me: We spoil her rotten.
CLWGH: Well, bye Binnie. I hope to see you in the neighborhood soon.
You then proceed to get on your bike and ride off into your time-warped sunset.
Let me point out a few things. For starters, you and I have had this conversation for at least 2 years, and it happens about every two months. Secondly, you never look me in the face, so perhaps that is why you don’t recognize me; however, my dog has a very distinctive look, so I fail to understand why you don’t recognize her, especially because you fawn over her like a grandmother dotes on her grandchildren. Thirdly and probably most importantly, at any point during our conversation, does it ever occur to you that maybe we’ve met and had this conversation? Because, it should. The fact that it doesn’t ring a bell makes me worried about you. How do you function in everyday life? Do you actually live in the movie Groundhog’s Day? How do you hold down a normal job? You seem intelligent, and friendly, so I’d like to think that you’re employed. Perhaps, you have a job where you’re perpetually doing the same thing, which seems to be a real talent of yours.
Anyway, you seem nice and certainly anyone that loves Binnie is ok in my book. Hopefully, after reading this perhaps you’ll realize this trend of a constant, time-loop of a conversation because frankly, it’s weird. Now, when I see you on the street, I run to the other side. Not because I don’t want to talk to you, but because I just don’t want to have the same conversation again… for the hundredth time. Maybe, like Bill Murry’s character, you are trying to improve yourself and learn as many things about the locals as possible to find satisfaction your life. Or maybe, most likely, you are perfectly pleasant, but just totally socially inept. In the meantime, I will continue to avoid you in the neighborhood.