Sheesh.
My general picture of myself is that of a fairly polite person whose general appreciation of the scheme of things includes a respect for others’ privacy, etc.
So happy hour Friday rolled around and I found myself at home, a bit lubricated, around 9:30. Across the street there’re sounds of life - a party. Now, I’ve posted before about my revisitation to college keggers with my neighbors in my own little colony here - UST students (UST campus is across the street) are my neighbors, and they’ve inexplicably befriended me.
So I’ve partied with them, and have got to know them, over the last year and a half.
That’s here on my side of the street.
Well, like a moth to the flame, I was drawn to this party in a house across the street. Turns out they were all Rice students (Rice U. is about 2 miles away). I guess I had a good time. Beat whatever else I was doing. I remember walking back across the street to go home.
Saturday morning it occurs to me that it was pretty untoward of me to just invite myself over. I’ve never been like that.
So, tonight, Sunday evening, I finally spot a car out front and walk over and ring the bell. A big guy comes to the door and I explain that I’m his across the street neighbor and I’d like to apologize for taking the freedoms I did with his hospitality Friday night - inviting myself to his party and all.
He said, “When we’re having a party, you c’mon, man.”
Crap! Now I’m hooked up with two groups of college partyers younger than my friends’ kids. And they’re all my neighbors.
Sometimes I wish I was shy.