Monday

So Monday, on my day off, I had Tim and Squeaky over for a visit.

Squeaky had invited herself, in the course of a phone call with Tim--he puts all our calls on speaker because, as we know, no reasonable conversation is complete without Squeaky getting all up in the middle of it. And speaker on a cell-phone is bad enough; speaker on a cell-phone where the other end is populated by Squeaky and a drunk Tim...oh, yeah, THAT's a conversation you want to avoid having, believe you me. And you CAN'T get away. Any effort to hang up is systematically thwarted. It's like...I don't KNOW what it's like. It's an experience which defies comparison, truly.

Anyway, during the course of one of these conversations, Squeaky asked me if I was working Monday, and I said "no" and she said "Cool! I'm gonna come visit you!"

I actually FELT my stomach sink. "Um...Yeah, sure...Okay," I said. "Tim, you're coming with, right?"

"Nah," he said. "I've got too much stuff to do, and..."


Typical Tim; he delights in exploiting my gullible nature. I saw through it; he was drunk enough to think his jokes were funny, so I could hear him smiling. And so after about half an hour of trying to get off the phone, it was finally set that they would come over at 1:00 Monday.

They got there at 2, and left at about 6:30; I was ready for them to leave by about 4. I mean, it was good to see Tim, sorta.

But Tim claims that he's trying to teach Squeaky certain skills she needs in the world--like, how to shop wisely, how to budget her money, things like that. While THAT sounds laudable, I have my doubts; from my perspective, it's a lot closer to "control" than "teaching". She's lost a lot of weight, which looks good on her; "...because Tim doesn't feed me," she claims. She brought her own cans of diet soda, instead of drinking her usual Pepsi, because "Tim says I can't drink soda with anything in it." It seems like he's building himself the "perfect" girlfriend--one who does whatever he says, cooks for him, cleans for him, worships the ground he walks on...

And if he IS "teaching" rather than "molding", he's missing some KEY points. Chief among them: Squeaky needs, above all else, to learn this: if two people who are NOT you are having a conversation, the thing to do is to wait til they're done making a point, or finishing a sentence, before interrupting. It also helps if, when you DO inject yourself into the conversation, you actually speak regarding a topic at least tangentially related to the subject at hand. Even MORE ideal? NOT interrupting every conversation with loud demands that one or both of the conversants direct their immediate attention to YOU.

A perfect example: Tim was trying to get some information from me about wireless computer networks. Before we moved, I gave him a defunct laptop and he had a friend fix it up for him (his friend had spare parts, apparently) and now he wants to get wireless service for it. But throughout the ENTIRE conversation--not an extended conversation, maybe ten minutes--Squeaky was interrupting with totally off-topic remarks designed to direct Tim's attention back to her.

This didn't happen once. It happened like, a dozen times. To the point where I was nearly moved to say "Hush, dear; grown people are talking." (I didn't. But I only BARELY didn't.)

I was very, very glad when they left, and so were the cats; Tim and Squeaky love cats, but they play rougher than my little fluffballs are used to.

(Of course, "things my little fluffballs are used to" is maybe NOT the best gauge of appropriateness; they are rapidly becoming used to late-night meals, generally served on demand, and having the run of the entire apartment. Ill-behaved little princes, they are; but unlike Tim and Squeaky, they're adorable enough to get away with it.)

I am so, so very glad that Tim and Squeaky are no longer a part of my day-to-day experience. Just being around them--their bickering, their schmoopsy-whoopsy-ness, the generally awful details of their little vibe--is exhausting for me. I have no idea how I lived with it for as long as I did; all I know is, I don't have to do it again and for that, I am exceedingly grateful.