Welcoming Committee

Location: Mom’s new house, hometown.

Setup: I’ve just gotten back from getting breakfast. Cowgrit is in the back of the house talking with my mom, and the boys are somewhere back there, too.

Scene: The doorbell rang and I could see, through the glass, storm door, an old woman standing on the porch. I didn’t know her. I stepped around the corner and tell my mom that someone’s at the door. (I didn’t know if Mom was dressed and ready for a visitor, and I don’t know everyone she knows — this could be a friend or a stranger, and having stepped around the corner, I saw that Mom was not yet showered and ready for a guest. Even I was dressed in old shorts and t-shirt, ready for a lot of physical work.)

I opened the door. “Hello.”

“Hello,” the woman said. She told me her name and “I live across the street. I just wanted to stop by and welcome our new neighbor to the community.”

She was nicely dressed, like for visiting, and she was very sweet. But my first thought was that one really should wait a few days before dropping in on a new neighbor. My mom had just moved in 48 hours before, and although the foyer and den were arranged, the rest of the house was still cluttered with furniture and boxes.

I conversed with her for a minute while holding the door open. I tried to hint that now was not a good time for a visit. I told her that my mom was in the shower and wasn’t available right then, but that apparently didn’t mean anything to this woman. I told her my mom’s name, and mine, and said that I would tell that she stopped by. But she still didn’t get the hint.

The woman asked if she could come in. I wanted to say, “no,” because as I’d explained, my mom was not washed and dressed for the day yet and the house was a mess and we were about to sit down for breakfast. But I didn’t want to be rude or unfriendly because I didn’t want my mom to have to deal with the repercussions if I pissed off a new neighbor. Then I thought, well maybe if I let her in the foyer, she’ll see the house is in the middle of a move in, and the situation would “click” in her brain.

“OK,” I answered, and let her in the door. The lady came on in through the foyer and into the den. For a moment I was worried she was about to go cruising through the house, but then she stopped in front of the sofa. I explained, again, that we were still getting everything moved in and arranged, and that my mom was not availabe right now, that I’d tell her of the visit, and that I had just brought home breakfast for my family (who were all out of sight in the back of the house somewhere).

But the lady just started chatting about how she used to visit the previous woman who lived in the house, how her husband had died of a heart attack, how her dog had recently died, and how all the neighborhood dogs came to her house for treats. All very sweet, but I kept throwing out hints, clues, and direct statements that now was not a good time for a visit. The lady actually sat down on the sofa.

I still didn’t want to be rude, for my mom’s reputation, but I had said everything to this woman short of “Please, you must leave, now.” Really, even direct explanations didn’t work. “Well, I really appreciate you coming by to say hello, and I’ll tell my mom. I’m sure she’ll want to meet you soon, but she’s in the shower and my family is about to sit down and eat breakfast.” I had pointed out the breakfast on the table at least twice.

“Oh,” she said, “well, please, don’t let me stop you.”

You have got to be kidding, I thought. This situation had gone on for about five minutes, already. I was one breath away from saying, “You have to leave now.” But, instead, I called for Cowgrit and the boys.

Cowgrit came into the room. She and Mom had been one room away, quietly waiting for the lady to leave. When I introduced Cowgrit to the lady, Cowgrit went through the same explanations that I had, and she got the same reaction. The lady continued to sit there on the sofa, telling her neighborly stories.

Cowgrit’s intervention allowed me to step back a moment and think about the situation. What would be the probable result if I straight told this woman to leave? She’s obviously a neighborhood talker. She’s mentioned that she regularly chats with all the neighbors. That could mean that the neighborhood’s first impression of my mom could be formed by this woman’s report of this encounter. Damn, I couldn’t just take her wrist and pull her out. But then again, maybe the whole neighborhood thinks this woman is wacko. The risk is too great for my mom’s reputation.

When Cowgrit managed to talk the lady into standing up from the sofa, I rejoined the conversation. I needed to support Cowgrit in whatever she was saying to get the woman moving in the right direction. It took another couple of minutes, but Cowgrit managed to lead her to the front door. Cowgrit opened the door and held it open for the woman while they continued to talk. Eventually, the woman got to the door, and finally back out to the front porch.

At last, when the woman walked off the porch, and Cowgrit closed the door (glass and wood) behind her, I asked, “What did you say to her that I didn’t?” Cowgrit had pretty much just said and acted exactly like I had. She didn’t know how she got the woman to stand, but once that accomplishment had been made, she worked the turn of the encounter all the way to the door.

We went back and checked on my mom, who had heard some of the conversation. We were all dumbfounded as to how the lady just could not catch the hints and clues, or understand the direct statements I had given.

Later during the day, I saw two neighbors stop by the woman’s house and chat for a few minutes. I wondered if and what she was telling them about her attempt to visit the new neighbor.

The woman was very sweet, and we figure she’s probably very lonely. I’m glad I didn’t go rude, but dear God, that was aggravating — in a sweet, polite, and friendly way.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com