I was in the middle of a really good dream, when the annoying door bell rang. And rang. And rang. Where was everybody? Since I couldnt fully go back to sleep without a full glass of warm milk and Excedrin P.M., I got up and answered the door only to find Mrs. Leia Thompson, my mother's friend, and her four-month old baby, Tate, my mother's last minute babysitting gig. But because she and everyone else in my family was away doing Saturday morning errands, I was stuck with this big 20-inch, 20-25 lb. baby.
After Mrs. Thompson left, it was just me and Tate, all alone, with only one thing on our minds: to venture into the unknown and make it out alive. Well, at least that's what was on my mind. Tate just sat there in his car seat, not crying or laughing or doing anything, really. Just looking up at me with his big blue eyes, waiting for me to entertain him for the next few hours. He was the most-well behaved child I had ever met with an overwhelming sense of confidence and assurance, that almost made me feel as if he didnt really need me.
But he did need me. He needed me to help him get out of his car seat. He needed me to make him his bottle. And he needed me to help him turn over, otherwise he would just lay down head first into his blanket because he was still too young to maneuver his own body. If only all children were more like this, instead of drippy snot-nosed brats who want nothing but candy and McDonald's Happy Meals. In fact, if even adults were more like Tate. Like my ex-coworker Wendi.
Wendi had called me later that day, and somehow, convinced me to go Halloween costume shopping with her. Before I knew it, I was in hell. Or as it was more commonly known, Wendi's car, with the strong cigarette smoke and smouldering heat. A few hours and many, many costumes later, I had finally found my costume and was ready to go home and end my improptu shopping date with Wendi. But Wendi wasnt as anxious. After she dropped me off home, Wendi drove around town, killing time by calling old friends and drinking at random dingy bars, when at one in the morning she called me. I was already asleep and clicked IGNORE on my cell, hoping Wendi would get the hint. She didnt. Because a twenty-three minutes later, she text me saying:
Why wouldnt she leave me alone?! The next morning during Sunday brunch with my family, Wendi called, asking me why I didnt answer her call. I should've just told her the truth, that I was tired, but I didnt. Instead I made up some story that I was at a party and couldnt hear my phone over the loud music.
WENDI: Oh, uh huh, is that what happened?
ME: Yeah, it was just crazy loud.
WENDI: Oh, uh huh, uh huh, so what time did you get home?
ME: I dont know, like...five, six this morning. I was so drunk.
WENDI: Oh, uh huh, uh huh, because, I went to your house last night to see if you were still awake and I saw you asleep in your bed.
She saw me asleep in my bed? What kind of person was I dealing with? Wendi's surprising answer made me that more determined to prove her wrong with another lie and to make her see she was indeed certifiably psycho. Which I did. But the result lasted for about a second, because Wendi then forgot about the whole thing and asked me what I was doing later that day. I, of course, was "busy", as I was the next day, but desperate Wendi was still persistant with her annoying calls and texts, including the one she left me, Monday afternoon.
"Hello-oooo...Daaaa-vid...where are yoooou? I need to talk to yoooou... I have a surprise for yoooou...call me baaaack...bye!"
When kindness is offered, we are finally able to see the worth of those we have previously written off. And before we know it, a bond has formed. Regardless of whether others can understand it. Unlikely friendships start up everyday. No one understands this more then the lonely. In fact, it's what they count on. But if the lonely are in fact desperate for friendship, is there anyway to make a clean break, while recommending a good mental institution?
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