This was after my grandfather's funeral and back at my parent's house. I don't want to forget this one, so I might as well share it with you here. Now remember, at this point, there were all sorts of people I didn't know at my parents' house:
Aunt M to me: How come I never got an invitation to your house in Westchester?
Me: Because we sold it and moved!
Stranger: You sold your house? How much did you get for it?
Me: (After turning to look at him and think about it for several long seconds) (Hold out my hand to shake) Hello, I'm Random Penseur. How nice to meet you.
Stranger: Hi, I'm Wendell Something. So, how much did you get for it?
Me: You know what, Wendell, I'm not at all sure that I'm comfortable having this conversation with you. And by the way, what are you doing to my father's bookshelves?
Stranger: I'm re-arranging the books so that they look nicer, putting them in size order. Doesn't that look better?
Me: I couldn't say (walking away shaking head).
I went and asked my dad if he knew some odd guy was re-arranging his books and he, already pretty emotional, went in and told the guy, after asking me if I was kidding, that if he didn't put every book back where it was, my dad was going to throw him out of the house. My dad later said he felt violated by having the guy rummaging through his shelves. I understand completely.
Like I said, an odd interchange all the way around.Posted by Random Penseur at December 20, 2005 10:57 AM | TrackBack