Making That Call

This morning I was running around doing errands. I was the proverbial "busy bee", flitting from the vets to the store to the bank to another store and finally home again. On one of my flights out to the car I smelled something rank near the front of our house. At first, I thought, eww, the neighbor's cats had used the area behind the bushes for their litter box. But the smell was different from that. I took another sniff. It was a bad odor for sure. And that's when I thought, "uh-oh, it smells like gas."

 I am not by nature an alarmist. I do not go looking for trouble. But I do look for verification (for almost everything!). So I walked across the front yard to the neighbors house and asked her to come out and sniff the air. She is an obliging sort (and she laughs at my jokes, so she is a good sport) and she came out and began sniffing around. By the then the odor seemed fainter and I thought perhaps I had misinterpreted the smell. She said she smelled something, but nothing alarming. We began to chat and swap stories when just like that, the odor was surrounding us! Ugh, we both looked at each other and thought, "we need to report this." I went in to the house and instead of calling the local gas company I called the police. Now the reason I called the police is that if anyone would get here quickly it would be them and I was afraid the smell would go away again and I'd end of looking stupid. I hate looking stupid, especially in front of the local police. I know a few of them from working where I do and they all enjoy teasing me as I suppose I'm so easy to tease. But I also knew they would investigate if I called.

The dispatch told me they would send out the fire department. I didn't want the fire department, I wanted one of those nice policemen I knew to come around and tell me what that smell was. But alas, soon I hear the fire whistle and I knew I was to blame. I went outside to wait for the sirens and blaring horns. At first, I was pleasantly surprised when two of the policemen I knew showed up and began sniffing the air. One of them reported he smelled something, the other didn't.They kidded around and talked to the neighbor and I, but then alas, I heard the blaring horn of the fire truck. This would be the talk of the neighborhood. for sure.

As the truck rumbled down the street and came to a halt the policeman who hadn't smelled anything, looked at me and smiled. I knew this was going to be one of the jokes they kidded me about for a while to come. The firemen scrambled off the truck, looking like ants searching for a picnic. They had these little devices that they held in front of them, testing the air, I assume. The reason I don't know was I wanted to stay out of the way and pretend it wasn't me who made the call. The neighbors' children down the street were enthralled with the proceedings. Another whiff of the smell came down on the wind and it was soon determined that a neighbor just a few doors down had put some kind of chemical down on his lawn that reacted with some other kind of chemical creating the bad smell. The firemen continued to monitor the area, the street was blocked off by police cars and some people were informed they should go back into their houses and it would be fine shortly. I say some people as neither the officers nor the firemen told me to get inside. They saw me mingling with the other people on the street and figured at least I wasn't causing any other ruckus, so they left me be.

All in all it was an interesting afternoon. I have vowed not to call the police for a while nor even the fire department unless I see flames. And in the future, I might wear a mask before going outside, just so I won't be the one to make the call.

Just Wondering

A friend of mine was feeling blue recently. Her husband (swine that I feel he is) left her for another, younger of course, what a cliche, woman. She was married to this guy for at least 25 years. They had 3 children. She was feeling blue because she finds that she wakes up every day and still thinks of him first thing before she gets up. Old, even bad, habits are hard to break--especially after 25 or so years. I told her that of course. And that he wasn't worth the tears, the anguish, but definitely still worth the anger. I love my friend very much and think she is a great person. What he has done to her--and in some ways continues to do to her--is shameful and hurtful.

So what I was thinking after the righteous indignation of her feeling bad wore off later in the day was this: does he still think of her like that? What does a cuckold think of his previous wife? Oh, I know the excitement and newness of the new relationship is still glowing it's fresh face. I know that he has moved on and is trying to push my friend into doing that as well (sell the house, sell the business, get rid of the past). But does he remember the good days at all? Does he remember how it was when it was just he two of them? Or even how it was when their kids were still small and the house was a hub of activity? Does he feel remorse? At all? And the new wife? Does she get what he has done to the former life? Does she wonder if she will wake up and find him not there in 20 years or so? Is he untrustworthy because he left once and so he might do it again? I have no way of knowing. And it's really just conjecture at this point that they even give a moment's thought to the past. Who am I to judge?

But I'm not judging necessarily. I'm wondering. Pondering, if you will. I see my friend struggle some days and wonder how can someone just walk away from someone else after all those years and not wonder about the other person? How can someone just shut down those feelings? Its a mystery to me. One I hope never to experience. But still I wonder.