I got a message from my mother not long ago in which she told me to call her back soon because she had a “Lisa story.”
A little background: I swear stuff happens to me that doesn’t happen to other people (my “Bridget Jones moments”)…and I find myself in a surprising number of situations in which I feel out of place and embarrassed and completely perplexed at how it all came to pass (yet firmly convinced that it couldn’t possibly happen to anyone else).
So…I called Mama back…and here it goes: she and Big Daddy are getting ready to retire and are looking at new houses. My mom was in a particular town solo as my dad was busy with work back home…and so Mom was looking at properties and trying to narrow down the field. And it turns out that her real estate agent wasn’t feeling well…but didn’t want to lose out on a potential commission and so he didn’t much want to let her out of his sight.
So…they were driving along when he had to pull over and excuse himself and run out of the car to throw up on the side of the road. He returned, they proceeded…and arrived at the first house…when what do you suppose happened? Real Estate excused himself again to vomit in the bushes while my mom looked at the house. Said scenario repeated itself several times throughout the day…and, bless his heart, Real Estate even wanted to have dinner afterward…but my mother declined.
Since then, Dad’s been dealing with matters of real estate…