I’ve heard Me tell this story before … When I lived in East Toledo, I lived on Whitlock Street (It was very quiet, compared to Toledo’s Old West End where I grew up. And every other part of town, that I’ve lived, now that I think about it). There was a very nice family across the street. They had 3 sons living at home with their own vehicles. One day in the winter, I backed out of my driveway into their driveway; slid down and crashed into Hector’s (one of the sons) brand new car (I think it was a Ford EXP). I went to the door at 6:30 am to introduce myself (as the new neighbor from across the street), apologize, ask him to get an estimate and I will write a check for the damages. A few weeks later, my dog ran away and I jumped in my car to go find her (I was already old by then (in my 20’s) and I knew I would never be able to chase her down and besides she loved to ride in the car), I backed out of the driveway making sure I looked every way but back when … BAM! I slammed my car into Earl’s car (two, of the son’s, I think it was a new Chevy Malibu). It’s the same story … I knock on the door at 6:30 am, apologize for being an idiot, ask him if he could get an estimate, and I will give him a check. A few weeks go by and I notice a brand new Mustang (with the price tag still in the window), parked right in front of my house. Now do these people think I suddenly learned how to drive? Or that I am made of money? I’ll show them what I am made of. I thought, ’how foolish’. And it was April 1st and although, I had not hit the car, it was parked right there in front of my house, (I even remember the look on my wife’s (you know who she is) face when she saw the look in my eyes. She pleaded with me not to do it.) But it had to be done. I decided to show them what it was like to be Me neighbor. I walked over and knocked on their front door, at about 6:30 am (because I am an ass and because that was my usual time for running into one of their cars). The Father answered the door, when he saw it was me, he looked like ’Please don’t tell me you ran into one of the boys cars again.’ But he said “Steve, how can I help you?” I said, “I can’t believe it … the new Mustang that is parked in front of my house, it doesn’t belong to one of your sons does it? (Now Mr. Ramirez has to be the nicest guy you could ever hope to have as a neighbor-but, I think he was about to lose it-so, I continued) he shouldn’t have parked it there on … April Fool’s Day!” He laughed so hard (I think he was about to knock my head off), he invited me in, and we all stood outside the bathroom, when they knocked on the door (Martin, the third son, who owned the car, was taking a shower) when they told him, “that dumb shit (?) Neighbor guy, from across the street ran into your new car” He started slamming things around calling me everything but Steve. When we all laughed and screamed “April Fools!” That’s what being a neighbor means to Me. Oh yes, good times. They were such good neighbors. I don’t think it was long after that, that they took up a collection for us to move (something about they could not all afford to move and they wouldn’t feel good about leaving any of the other neighbors behind and about how it was cheaper to pay us to move, how we needed more room for our dogs and growing family. Me daughter Ayren had just been born and … ?). Seriously, they are really the greatest neighbors ever. And it only cost me about a thousand dollars to meet them. I wish they still lived across the street.
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 13:39:24 +0000
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