Meanwhile at the Tiffany Apartments… can I be mental here?

Can I be honest here?  Well, I’m always honest here—but there’s a lot I don’t share, because I don’t want people to think I’m not right in the head.  For one thing, I’m what you call an ‘extroverted introvert’.  If you plop me in the middle of a social gathering, I have no problem talking to anybody & everybody.  I’m no shrinking violet.

Of course, the moment I leave said event and am back in the confines of my own apartment, I think “Thank God that’s over” collapse on the sofa and sleep for a couple hours.  People drain me of my superpowers.

And speaking of my apartment, I have always seen it as my Batcave, my Fortress of Solitude.  I’m a loner, I don’t entertain.  Wait, that’s not true.  If I can have one guest, super—I’ll serve up refreshments and make them feel at home.  If it’s two guests?  Thanks for stopping by, sorry you can only stay a few minutes.

Three or more?  Nope.  I can’t do it and at my age, I’m tired of feeling guilty about it.

I admire the ones who do.  My sister Shawn loves having people in her home, the more the merrier. I remember on Halloween 2018, it was my birthday and I was sitting alone on my sofa trying to eat a scrambled egg, but was unable to because of pancreatitis.  Feeling sorry for myself, I called my sister to see what they were up to. 

“Hi Doug, Happy Birthday!  JIM—SET OUT THAT FOURTH TRAY OF CHICKEN, WE HAVE TEN MORE COMING!  Sorry Doug I can’t talk, we’re having an Open House, why should trick-or-treaters have all the fun?  Sophia, come and say hello to your Uncle Doug!”

The reason I share this is because I invited someone here for dinner the other night, but she wouldn’t let me take her photo.  The night before, around 10:30, it occurred to me I’d never checked my mail.  Slipped on my shoes, went down to the lobby.  There was my friend Opal, who I have not seen since Christmas.  She was sitting on the settee (which has been in storage 2 years because of the pandemic), paperback in hand.  I said hi, asked how she was doing, was she happy to have her throne back.

Opal threw her head back and laughed (she laughs at everything I say) and asked me to please sit down for a few minutes and talk.  So I did, but after 10 minutes I said my tv and laptop were both on upstairs, I should head back up.  She said “But I need to discuss current events!  Why do you think I sit down here like some prostitute!”

She is very funny—I said I was sorry, would she like to come by my place tomorrow for dinner?  I like to eat early, I know she does too.  Opal said “Are you serious?  Do I have to dress up?”  I said no, come as you are.  (She wears a lot of housecoats.)   She said “Are you really cooking?”  I said yes.  She said “Can it be anything besides chicken?  Or pizza or hamburgers?”  I said I’d come up with something. 

Here’s what I made the following day:  English sausages with roasted red peppers, and jalapeno rice.  I also had Italian rolls, fresh lemonade, and served chocolate ice cream for dessert.

Opal arrived on time and said “Oh boy, it smells good in here!”  I told her everything was ready, let’s get to eating.  After she sat down at my dining table, I said “Hey… can I ask you a favor?  Could I take a photo of you with your food?”

She said “Why?  To put me on the dark web?”  I laughed and said she was close, I thought I’d share it on my blog.  Or, show a friend I had company for dinner and wasn’t a total social misfit.  Opal said “I don’t want my photo taken, but go ahead and tell everyone I was here!  Who’s this friend of yours?”  I said “Oh, someone who suspects everything I tell her—forget the photo, I’ll collect some DNA evidence before you go”  and we both laughed. 

We got to talking about things like the Supreme Court (who I refer to as SCOTUS and she calls SCROTUM) and antidepressants & blood pressure meds we were both on, and we compared the edema in our feet & ankles.

The next day, my friend Danielle emailed me and asked how my date went.  I replied “It wasn’t a date, she is a friend & neighbor only.  No romantic interest on either side.”  She asked what Opal looked like.  I said “Well, she’s in her sixties, has shoulder length blondish gray hair, crinkly eyes.”

Danielle said “I want a pic.”  I said “There is no pic!  And she doesn’t have a smartphone or a computer, and she’s not on social media!  What would you have me do??”  Danielle said “I still want a pic.”

An hour later I sent Danielle this photo and said “Here!  She won’t let me take her picture, but this is from Opal’s Employee ID badge from 2019, when she worked for Anderson Insurance!  I hope you’re satisfied!”

A short while later Danielle replied “She looks nice!”

I said “This isn’t really Opal, it’s a random woman I found on the internet that had shoulder length blondish hair and crinkly eyes!”

Danielle said “I totally fell for this!  I believed you!”

I said “Well, that’s what you get for pestering me for a photo!  I told you, Opal’s not on social media, she isn’t part of the internet.  She’s a 69 year old woman who had a bunch of kids, they’re all grown up and moved away except for one daughter who’s 34 and lives with her.  After her husband died, Opal sold their old house and the two moved in here.  All she’s looking for is a friend!”

Danielle replied “What’s her last name?  I’m gonna need a last name.”