Go Away!

“No, I don’t want to ‘pop-in’ for a quick Christmas drink.”

“No, I don’t want to ‘swing-by’ for a few festive nibbles.”

“No, I have no desire to attend your house-warming do.’ So says my brain.

My mouth, without consent, says, “Yeeeeeees, we’d absolutely love to pop-in/stay-over/watch your home-birthing DVD/sponsor your dog to walk The Great Wall of China. We’d be delighted!”

And I’ll attend whichever tedious social gathering I’m invited to with insincere gusto and a resentful mind full of, ‘Why can’t I just say no?’

I’ll forgive you for thinking I sound an unsociable curmudgeon: Who would invite you to a party, you miserable cow? But, hold your judgemental horses. I’m not unwilling to mix and make-merry per se; I’m unwilling to waste valuable time talking bollocks. I’m not interested in how much your car/house/watch is worth. I don’t want to know how much you earn. And I couldn’t care less what your job title is.

The majority of my social interactions are nothing more than a one-sided outpouring of dog-shit. An opportunity for someone new to parade their material and verbal wares before my unimpressed, half-closed eyes and ears.

Recently, we moved onto a sparkly new housing development. A development bursting with families! We love the house, but we’re less keen on being so close to other people. People who misinterpret someone moving into the house next door as an invitation for lifelong friendship. Love thy neighbour? No, leave thy neighbour alone.

It is a rare event indeed, if I can return to my house without being set-upon by a pack of noisy kids (like the street urchins of Delhi), in desperate need of attention.

We were not prepared for the masses of bored children seeking stimulation away from their familiar four walls. Not used to the incessant bloody ringing of the bloody front door-bell. The daily irritating squeaky harmonies of ‘Can Charlie and Bella come out to play?’! No, no they fucking can’t. Now piss off and play kerbie someplace else.

My children are six and seven. If they go out to play, I must accompany them; stand outside in the cold and pretend to joyfully interact with them both. Inevitably, this earnest display brings out the other parents, who, I presume, spend hours looking out their windows in their outdoor clothes, just longing for me to step onto my driveway and inadvertently give them the nod to come join me!

And before I can manage a 180 degree spin on my heels, signalling my intent to escape, I hear, “Annie. Aaaanieeeee! How would you all like to come over on Sunday for a bit of a get-together?” Bit of get-together? A fucking get-together? Like Scouts? No thanks!

“Yes, that would be lovely. I was only just thinking we should all get together. Have a few drinks and some nibbles. I’ll make a quiche!”

One of my resolutions for 2016 is to think quicker: to have a bounty of excuses ready to launch. Much like the ‘looky-looky’ man whose coat is stuffed with fake watches, I need pockets full of pre-prepared excuses to bamboozle any invitation giver.

I now spend weekends like Ethan Hawke’s family in The Purge: barricaded. We do not want to attract unnecessary attention from ‘the outside.’ The curtains are closed and the lights are off. If our house could speak it would say, ‘FUCK OFF!’ to anyone who dares to venture down the driveway. A driveway I’m tempted to start booby-trapping.

I’ve no choice but to keep the living room curtains closed during the day. Closed curtains should tell the outside that, a) I’m giving my husband a blowie on the sofa, b) we’re on holiday, c) we don’t like Halloween, or, d) we’ve died. All of which should perturb anyone from knocking.  All, except the needy fuckers of Evergreen Road. For nothing can stop their determination to become further acquainted.

Can anyone recommend an effective method for living in their home peacefully? To have an afternoon nap on the sofa without pudgy little fingers tapping the front window and mouthing ‘o-u-t  t-o p-l-a-y?’ How do I politely decline an invitation without saying ‘Can’t. Dad’s just died’?

Right. Time to put the bins out. It’s 3am. Wish me luck…..

 

 

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7 Comments Add yours

  1. Lisa V says:

    Wouldn’t have pegged you for anti-social. 🙂 But I get the whole “upscale, over-achiever’s club” thing. We, too, live in a neighborhood like that. I’m still trying to find my “peeps.” The ones that want to go thrift shopping, or hang out at the local indie bookstore. I live in a world of chain restaurants and name brand stores. I long for the old days when kids were allowed to play outside by themselves without someone calling the cops on you.
    Hope your covert mission to put the bins out was successful. Now get back inside before someone sees you! LOL

    Like

    1. Annie says:

      A little anti-social, perhaps! Oooh, I love charity shopping!! Love it! And dusty old book-stores too.
      Yes, it would be perfect if the kids could play outside, like we did, but we have a main road nearby, and I feel they’re too young to play outside alone. Thing is, the other parents in the street, don’t feel the same way. Their little pups are always roaming around outside (the youngest is 4!), and constantly knocking on my door. And this is what makes me grouchy! But you’re right. It’s a tribe thing. Once you find your people, hanging-out is great! (She says, desperately trying not to sound too miserable!) xx

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I totally agree with this,we moved this time last year – to a place where people say hi and that’s it ,heaven – we came from a house where kids were always asking TO COME IN to play.Drove me nuts.They’d have no qualms about asking for food while they were at it.One particular mother would send said kids around every damn time she ran out of anything.Hubby used to go bananas as I was too nice to say no.Much prefer it where we are even if it does seem anti-social!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Annie says:

      I knew I couldn’t be alone! It drives us nuts, too. My husband was asleep on the sofa, one Sunday afternoon, and one of the little shites made his made into our hall!! Argh! x

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Nooooo!!We had one lean over the fence,bang on the window and point to a tub of Quality Street on top of the fridge,thought that was bad enough!! X

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Annie says:

        Ha ha ha, that’s soooo funny! Annoying, but funny! x

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh I love this! I too agree to things I really don’t want to do, just to be polite. I like my own space and time and this would drive me bonkers. Thanks for linking up to #justanotherlinky xx

    Like

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