Not-Heaven hath no fury like a Val snubbed.
I don't demand a lot. A daily 44 oz Diet Coke, an allowance for scratchers, a comfortable chair, internet access, pay TV, and air conditioning. Val is not high-maintenance.
I came home from town on Monday afternoon, my magical elixir sloshing in T-Hoe's cup-holder like a can of paint in the shaker at Lowe's. I was almost there. On the gravel road in front of our 10 acres next to the BARn. But my journey came to a standstill due to a black pickup truck parked in the road. The reason for the parkage was HICK!
Hick was standing at the driver's door of the black pickup, hand on the mirror, chatting. His Gator was parked on the grass strip on the other side of the road, as if coming toward me. I stopped. Waited. Put my window down to talk to Juno, Jack, and Copper Jack, who trotted down to greet me. Which is more than Hick did! Not a wave. Not a nod. No acknowledgment whatsoever.
Surely that driver was going to start on his way, and clear the road. Indeed, I saw the brake lights flash on, and the vehicle started moving. Moving a few feet forward, onto the other side of the road, leaving room for me to pass. Still no reaction from Hick. Though I assume he probably issued a snide request for my passage.
Uh huh. I can imagine Hick rolling his eyes and saying Driver had better move, or there would be Not-Heaven to pay when Hick got home. Can you imagine, a person portraying their spouse in such a critical way? I KNOW! Me, neither!
Anyhoo... I crept by. Hick stood his ground in his new stance beside the Driver's door, arm once again draped over the mirror. After I was past, I heard Hick yell something about wasn't I going to talk to him. The time for talking had ended.
You know Val. She's not one to raise a hubbub. I had to turn my head, taking attention off the road, to say, "I can't talk NOW."
When Hick finally returned to the house, some 45 minutes later, I really had nothing to say. It was time to descend to my lair with lunch. I let Hick sit down in the damaged La-Z-Boy first. Then broke that news to him.
"Sorry. Not convenient for me now. I'm ready for lunch. You didn't have time for me out there."
"I was waiting. I thought you'd stop and talk to me."
"HOW? If that guy rolled down his passenger window? So I could talk to you through his truck, across his ears?"
"No. I was standing there."
"At his mirror. I couldn't turn around backwards to talk to you. I was already past when you said anything."
It's not like Hick ever has anything to say. But he could at least have given me a nod and a wave."