A Distressed Neighbour, Dual Master Bedrooms, and Venomous Snakes

A neighbour called at my home today in a state of distress. The guy has four toilets in his house, and in the process of deciding which one to use, he wet himself. I invited him in and let him sit in the cat’s litter tray. I poured some milk in the cat’s feeding dish, and watched as he licked the milk. It seemed to have a calming effect.

When I commented on the marvelous array of automobiles outside his home, his family’s fine clothes, the numerous extensions made to his home, and his profession – a high-ranking, marketing consultant – he suddenly pounced, grabbed my shirt collar with both hands (the only shirt I own with sleeves) and started to rant: “I haven’t slept for five days, I’m exhausted working in a damn company I hate, a job I hate, working with people I hate, worrying about bills I’ve to pay for things neither I, nor my family, need! My life’s passing me by ...”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear all this. “But, you look so happy ... your wife ... children.“ His face became scarlet, “DON’T MENTION MY WIFE! First it was dual master bedrooms, then separate houses in the same city, then in separate states, then separate countries, then separate continents. She took all the CDs and DVDs, electrical appliances. You name it, she took it - even my favourite wig made out of horse hair. I've had to buy duplicates of everything. And I used to be so clever, quick witted ...” “Really. I ... I never knew. I.... I mean about your situation."

I fumbled behind me for a can, or an onion slicer. I needed protection - fast. This guy was nuts. Panic and anxiety bounced around in my brain. Not much room, I know, but it’s the only one I’ve got. I grabbed hold of a banana skin and started to regret eating it earlier.

“My wife and I used to see each other once a week, then once a month. Now we’re lucky if it’s once a year. We’ve become Woody and Mia, and I’m not sure which one I am.”

My mind was spinning. “You should live like me. No television, Internet, magazines, shopping. Marketing and advertising are the bane of people’s lives.” I paused for a second. I didn't tell him my cat had only last week bought highly priced cat clothes, food and sex toys on eBay with my credit card - I was cleaned out. My neighbour purred, and beckoned me, with his left eye, to continue. “Perhaps you should go and live in the mountains, the jungle, or Ohio. Away from civilization. Take control of your life again.”

He immediately clamored to his feet. “You’re right ... I think you’re right ... the mountains, the jungle, Ohio ... I need to start packing.” He moved towards the door. I slightly relaxed my grip on the banana skin. With his eyes moving in different directions, he said, “You’ve completely changed my whole outlook. Sitting in the litter tray helped me to reassess my perspective on life. How can I ever repay you?”

As I pushed him out, and engaged the twenty locks and bolts on my front door, I yelled, “Send me the fangs of the first venomous snake that bites you.” I believe I heard him say, “ You’ll get them, buddy. I swear - if it kills me - you’ll get them." I had a feeling he was right.

Reflections: It's our differences that make us interesting, and if we all become the same we are lost. I believe we fail our children if we don’t encourage them to embrace diversity, and to listen and memorise fragments of music, prose and poetry that will echo in their ear throughout their lifetime.