Have I mentioned to you guys that
weird shit happens to me? Maybe the
people in my life just lead “boring” lives, or perhaps I’m too extroverted for
my own good sometimes and I welcome the weirdness, but I really feel like my
life sometimes reads like a good comic strip.
I moved into my new place (LOVE IT)
about two weeks ago and I think I’ve miserably failed to mention anything about
my new neighbor. My new, interesting and
colorful character of a neighbor, Ray.
Good ‘ole Ray.
The day I signed my lease, before
any box had even been moved in, I had innocently asked my landlord about my
neighbors. Just for my general knowledge,
ya know? I needed to know if I was going to need to go outside with a baseball
bat if there was a potential for snot-nosed kids hanging around my car
(Kidding. Kidding. Kinda.)
Liz looked at me and asked, ‘Why? Do
you know Ray? What do you have with Ray?”
Uhm...What??
“I don’t have anything with Ray. I
don’t know who Ray is. Should I be concerned?”
I met Ray the next day as I was
hauling in boxes from my car.
And let me tell ya….Ray is a TALKER.
I had a huge box in my arms, feeling
like baby in Dirty Dancing, as I let Ray talk my ear off. It was only a 15 minute conversation (I timed
it because once he opened his mouth I knew this was going to be interesting.),
but in that short 15 minute time span, I learned:
Ray is my Dad’s age (52) with eight kids. FIVE under the age of six that live next
door. Cute kids. His dad was a two tour
Vietnam vet. He's been married three times. Ray likes cheeseburgers on the
grill. Oh, and he's very blunt, according to himself, and appreciates when
other people are too. There were more
facts about Ray thrown at me, but frankly I can’t remember. I was trying my
hardest to make sure I remembered the most important stuff, to let everyone on
Facebook know. Lol
I
didn't (directly) encounter Ray the next day, but he left this box of cookies
on my windshield.
Thanks,
Ray. I still haven’t thanked him for
those. Ha!!
The
day after I was left the cookies, I saw him and as "we" were talking
he spotted a bumblebee. He told me a story about how when he was a bartender he
and his bartender friends would dump buckets of ice on bumblebees to watch it
paralyze them......"They would just stop because it was so cold....and
then....*hand gesture* you could see their little legs start going after a
while. It was funny."
Ok,
Ray.
That
makes him sound weird, but it wasn’t as morbid as it might sound, because you
see, the bees were OK after the ice water wore off.
I wish there was some way to avoid him, but usually he;s outside smoking when I come home from work. I welcome new Ray stories, but sometimes I just AIN'T got time for all that!
More to come.
I leave you with some Ry Gos. Because he makes everything better:
