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(Continued from Dec. 29, 2009)

“My boyfriend does not know you and you don’t know him, right?” Alice questioned.

“That is correct,” I answered tersely.  Since I was curious, I wanted to be sure that I did not interrupt her train of thought.

“But, you know all three of us—me and his two former girlfriends.   According to Elsie you saw us together about a month ago.  We were walking on one side of the street and you on the other.  She said that you waved belatedly.”

I recalled the instance, which, at that very moment, was rendered unambiguous by Alice’s words.   During the in-the-distance encounter, the three were not walking abreast.  Alice, a few meters ahead of Thea, was staring at a shop window.  Because of foot traffic from the other direction, Elsie was pretty well directly behind Thea.  The two formers were dressed in similar but unusual garments and I wasn’t entirely sure of their identity.  However, when Elsie turned sideways and looked in my direction, I waved—as one does in such ambiguous situations.  I quickened my pace and did not look back.

“Yes, I remember seeing you together.  Why were Elsie and Thea dressed similarly?”

Alice burst into what seemed for a moment uncontrollable laughter.  After a few seconds, she said: “See, you are a nice guy.  Anybody else would have called those garments weird.  Actually, the girls had volunteered to serve at a gathering of veterans.  I went to meet them afterwards and dared them to walk along the street in that strange attire.  Of course, you were too far away to see their really low décolleté.  Anyway, it was sort of nice to give those old guys at the dinner a thrill–as the girls bent over to place the plates on the low table.”

“Was there no request for your involvement?”

“I was needed at the office.  My boss had just returned from a trip abroad and he wanted a report on some of the files.  I was sort of glad that I had a good excuse for not volunteering.  I had accompanied the girls to the hall the week preceding; and, it was obvious, that those outfits would not be suitable for tall galls like me.  Anyway, we are having an interesting conversation, but we have been drifting away from the essential point.”

“OK, I am ready to discuss any matter that you consider important.”

“We three girls want to treat you to a lunch or a dinner.  We feel that you should be aware of the relationship between us girls as well as our relationship with Bob.  We would like that to happen as soon as possible…”

(to be continued)

(Continued from Dec. 27, 2009)

I have referred to the lady, who dropped the large A & W cup with contents, as my neighbor.  In fact, she is the most recent girl friend of my neighbor.  It appears that the young man does not have a vehicle, but he seems to appeal to ladies who do.

I must admit that I did not come to that conclusion myself; a young friend of mine did after I had supplied him with some details.  My friend cried out: “The guy has a great set-up.  He owns an apartment with a magnificent view, which is more attractive, for ladies, than a car.  The latter can lose its value very quickly—even after a relatively minor accident.  The former always increases in value in the long run.”

My friend went on to explain that my neighbor would, of course, only associate with (or target when he would be looking for a new one) those ladies who have a vehicle.  Having access to a partially heated parkade in the winter time presented an asset in itself—for smart ladies.

I pointed out to my young friend that much of his comment was speculation.  However, after I had thought about it at length, I felt that my friend’s imaginative scenario definitely belonged to the realm of the probable.  I am not about to investigate the situation.  There is no harm done.  My neighbor and any of the ladies whom I have seen in his parking spot are all adults.

My neighbor’s most recent girl friend, the best-looking so far, appeared to behave a bit strangely, though.  After I had put the squashed A & W cup into the two-foot wide strip in front of “her” parking spot, she moved it (as well as an empty MacDonald’s container) into the space in front of my Buick.  I wasn’t about to make a big deal of it; so, the next time that I carried my kitchen refuse to the dumpster, I took along the tall girl’s containers.

I met her at my vehicle the next day.  She thanked me for removing the cups and she apologized for the resulting mess on the floor—which she intended to clean soon.  With a big smile on her face, Alice explained that she wanted to see my reaction.  “I have the impression that you don’t easily get upset about things,” she added.  A lengthy, very interesting, discussion ensued.

(To be continued)

(continued from Dec. 25, 2009)

Because the concrete floor of our building’s parkade has a considerable slope toward the entrance gate, the fluid could be the result of a leak in any of the cars parked higher.   So, I inspected the narrow space between my Buick and the car directly to the right of  it.   Not a trace of any fluid.

I backed out the Buick, which allowed me to view the source of the mysterious fluid.   I saw a squashed A & W cup.  Apparently, my neighbor had dropped it when descending from her vehicle and it had rolled away from her.   Later, I drove over the cup during my departure or my return.   I don’t blame her for failing to crawl under my car, but a note on my windshield would have been nice.   Eventually, someone will have to clean the rivulets of yellow, oil-resembling substance that flowed under three cars before it filled a crack.

(to be continued)

The other day, I casually swung my old Buick into my parking space.  Since I was in no particular hurry, I took my time attaching the club to the steering wheel and the brake pedal.  I also opened an envelop to inspect its contents; it had sparked my curiosity as I retrieved it from the post office box.  Consequently, several minutes had passed when I descended from my vehicle.

After I had closed the car door, my attention was immediately attracted to two small rivulets of yellow fluid.  The initial thought was that my car had developed an oil leak, which was confirmed when I touched the substance.  There appeared to be a  certain viscosity in the texture.  However, upon reflection, the cleanliness of the oil on the floor was remarkable, considering that the  oil in my car hadn’t been changed for quite some time…

(to be continued)