“He caught me! I don’t know how, but he did! And I was so careful about hiding it from him, too. I guess there’s no more sneaking around now.” This revelation from my best friend Marge certainly got my attention. We were at our favorite bistro, enjoying our Cobb Salads and glasses of Chardonnay when she unexpectedly blurted out these words.
“Want to elaborate?” I asked as gently as I could. “What have you been doing that you need to hide?”
She took another sip of wine and the story tumbled out. “You see, a few weeks ago, Charlie decided that he needed to buy a truck. And I’m using the word “need” loosely here since he “needs” a truck like he needs a hole in the head. But he really wanted one, so we went shopping and he found one that he really loved.
So far, so good, I thought to myself. Nothing so horrible. “So, where does the sneaking around come in?”
“I’m getting there. The good news is that he bought a truck that he likes. It’s nice and big with a second row of seats in the cab. Plus, the back bed is super large and can haul a lot of stuff.”
What stuff? I asked myself as I urged her on. He’s retired!
Marge continued. “Here’s the bad news - the truck doesn’t fit - it sticks out beyond the garage door. Charlie can’t even back it out without my guiding him. We had to buy a set of those orange batons the guys on the airport tarmacs use to wave planes into the gate. And, to make matters worse, we need to widen the driveway too! He can’t turn the darned thing around once it’s out of the garage. We have to get approval for that little ‘project’ from the HOA!”
“All of this because he just had to have a big truck like his friend Billy’s. He doesn’t need that danged thing in the first place. It's not like we live on a ranch where he’ll be toting bales of hay to feed the cattle. And then, to have it not fit! I mean, who buys a brand-new vehicle that won’t fit into the garage? No problem for this man - now he’s talking about renovating and extending the garage into the house, taking away my laundry room just so he can close the garage door.
Marge was clearly a little overwrought and I still didn’t know what she was hiding. Did she return the truck without his knowing it or, worse, get a scratch on it while trying to pull it out of the garage herself?
We would definitely be needing another glass of wine! Moments later, glasses refilled, we both took another sip and she continued: “That’s when it happened. You see, I was trying really hard not to get into a fight with him over this whole thing. But every time he came up with another hair-brained scheme to make the truck fit, I started rolling my eyes. I apparently was doing it a lot because the other day, he caught me and now he’s pretty mad.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. It seemed to me that Charlie’s solutions to the “big truck problem” had earned more than a few eye rolls. “We all do it, Marge” I said soothingly.
“Last week Steve pointed out a cool sports car while we were driving. It had a huge spoiler on the back and, of course, he decided that he might like to get one just like it. I didn’t want to mention that at our age getting in and out of such a low, tight space would not be easy, so I just rolled my eyes instead. It might not always be the best way to handle a situation, but sometimes biting one’s tongue or rolling one’s eyes is better than starting a fight. Besides, I’m sure they do much the same with things we say and do.”
A few days passed; I hadn’t heard anything when I got a call from Marge. “Problem solved” she breathlessly told me. “Charlie has another solution on how to get the truck to fit.” I held my breath.
“We’re moving. There’s a house around the corner for sale with a much bigger garage and a super huge, wide driveway. We’ve been to see it and have already put in an offer. At least we won’t have to make the laundry room smaller. And bonus! Charlie says the garage is big enough to fit a golf cart and an RV. He’s really excited now!”
Smiling, I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes. Men and women, living with each other, experiencing life with all its ups and downs. Reminds me a little bit of the “As the World Turns” soap opera my grandmother watched years ago, with perhaps a bit less drama and less extravagant a wardrobe.
Now, here’s an idea – a new soap opera called “As the Eyes Roll.” Marge and I will be first in line for auditions.
© 2024 Annie Sokoloff
Comments