I’m sick of the Tailhook nature of
navigating daily life when people are so blithely rude they let doors
slam in the faces of the people behind them, they jostle and slam into
others without so much as an “excuse me,” so by the time I retreat back
to home base I feel like an abused slab of dough.
The neighbors I have now are no doubt the
friendliest, most interesting and, well, neighborly street-mates I’ve
ever encountered. So why do I sometimes find myself avoiding them, or
any potential friends for that matter? The concept of neighborhood
etiquette (and previously, dorm life) is totally lost on me.
The other day, you called me just to talk, and it scared the shit out of me. You sat down, somewhere quiet and alone,
gambling a little bit of your evening hoping I’d pick up and gamble a
little bit of mine on you, too.