The end of being awkward

On New Years eve I generally stay away from people, because I am no longer drinking, and when around people who are drinking, it can be awkward.

What happened then, to sober me and possibly drinking her, was a great way to end the year, but also a terrible way to begin a new one.

Let's understand the history. Last summer, or really, this past fall, my lawnmower would not start, no matter how many times I threw it against the basement wall. Now, there is this swell sort of alternative woman, a single mother, who seems smart and dedicated to both the neighborhood and her family. I enjoy coffee and chatting, but I would certainly not consider us anything more than people who live near one another.

When the lawnmower died it was at a time when I was traveling a lot, so I did not seem to be able to find a way to get to a store or find a repair shop. So, one warm Saturday, with the lawn getting out of control and me with the knowledge that our city will fine you for not mowing your lawn, so I asked my friend if I could borrow her lawnmower and without hesitation she said yes and had her young daughter push it over to my house.

Well, of course I got everything mowed and then it started to rain. I called the lawnmowers owner and explained that I would hold onto the mower until the rain gave up. That night I went on a date, ended up spending the weekend in Boston and when I got back, it seemed like fall was a lot closer to winter and I just forgot about mowing lawns and focused on more important things.

That was late September.

On the 31st of December there was a community party, or gathering, I am not sure, but many people met at a local house. I showed up around 10 because I have been focused on another major project and I just forgot about the party. I had a snack, chatted up neighbors and was preparing to leave when Ms. Lawnmower saw me, bee lined to me, and demanded to know what sort of scummy thief steals a lawnmower. First, I was a little taken aback, because I did not know what she was talking about and she was obviously a little intoxicated and speaking loudly.

It took me a couple of seconds to remember that my basement was housing the purloined lawn mowing device and once that clicked, I tried to explain, but she would have nothing of it. "I thought you were a nice guy, you have kids, you have cleaned up your house, and you are a part of the neighborhood, but you stole my mower and now I think you are a scumbag. AND I want my mower back."

Yikes, the problem with not drinking is that when people who are a little drunk start berating you, instead of meeting their energy, you understand the situation and probably want to leave, which is what I wanted to do, but she obviously wanted to engage. I told her I would have the lawnmower back at her house the next morning, but that was not good enough. She wanted to know why I kept it, why I thought that was OK and what sort of person uses another person like that.

I had one of those a-ha moments right about there, that this was not lawnmower related at all, this was former husband related. I was her blurry version of her husband, who had apparently lied, used, abused and left. Once I clued into that, I had a couple of choices, continue inching my way to the door with the promise of the return of said lawnmower, or point out the obvious. I leaned in and told her, "I borrowed your lawnmower and forgot I had it. That does not make me a criminal, it makes me forgetful. You on the other hand seem to be thinking I am someone else, and your issues with this other person should be dealt with when you are drunkenly standing in front of them."

I should have waited for the a-ha moment to subside, because instead of throwing water on her anger, I apparently threw gasoline. The eruption was fast and fierce, her eyes turned red, she threw her hair back and she lit into me, "when someone does you a favor, you don't abuse it, you should learn some manners. You are a liar and a user."

It went on, but I was close enough to the door to grab the handle, push and escape. This morning, I woke early, had a cup of coffee and pushed the lawnmower to her house. As I was quietly trying to get it to her garage, the back door opened, she in a robe, also with a cup of coffee in her hand, said, "good morning, oh, I was wondering what became of that lawnmower..."