Last Night Ago

"Last Night Ago" is how Reuben refers to anything that has happened in the past.  It all happened Last Night Ago.

Well, last night ago, I got to be a part of some small town drama.  In the middle of the night.

Paul goes to the bar every Wednesday night.  Kind of like a doctor making house calls.  He goes and is warmly welcomed with an iced tea and lots of folks who pull him aside to talk to him.  He goes in about 8 o'clock and comes home between 2 and 6 o'clock in the morning, depending on how in-demand his counseling services are that night.

This week, he came home about 11 o'clock and asked me,  "Want to do some work?"

I was already in my pjs, contacts removed, hair down, teeth brushed, and on my way to sleepdom.  Do I want to work?

It seems that the bar owner's girlfriend, Tammy, texted him and said she needed to talk.  Tammy likes a lot of drama and likes to make bad choices, and mixed together with alcohol, this makes a mess.  I don't know all the details, but Paul thought I should go talk to her.  Based on what I know of her, I imagined my responses to her would be a lot of things that would offend her, but Paul thought I was the one to go.  "She can't be offended," he said.  Okay, then I hope she's ready for me.

So I roughly put myself together and drove north out of town, in search of her house that I've never been to.  It's dark in the country and there are wild animals and folks with guns.  But I stop at the house that I think is hers and knock.  Twice.  And call her name.  And I then remember it's close to midnight and what if this isn't her house and I wake up one of the aforementioned gun owners.  I retreated.

Back at home, Paul calls the bar owner (Tom) to verify that I was at the correct house.  Yes I was.  So I head back to see if her truck is there.  It's not.  I go back home.  Paul calls her and gets her voice mail.  I'm about done with this game.  Paul drives to her house and finds the truck parked in the back, so she must be there.  I go back out and knock more confidently.

She comes out of the house, doesn't acknowledge me except to say that she's going to Tom's house to get something.  I ask her if she wants to talk.  She rushes on into the darkness.  So I just stand there in the summer night and listen to her bang around like a cat looking for food in metal garbage cans.  Is she looking for her shotgun?  Am I going to die right here on this piece of grass with her cat rubbing against me?  What is she doing?  I don't know, but she eventually gets in the truck and leaves.  And I think, "Oh great, a woman under the influence just got in her car and is driving toward town."

So, I did the same.  In a more sober-like manner.  And I went to my house, not Tom's.

Upon returning home for the third time, I told Paul I was done.  Thanks for the opportunity, but I'm not going to chase a drunk, emotional woman whom I barely know and press her to confide in me.

Some time later she called our house and cried and lied and dispaired and Paul soothed her enough that she hung up.  I still have no idea what was wrong, but I can imagine.

Paul went back to the bar where Tom received a text from Tammy stating that both he and Paul are cowards to send me out to do their dirty work.

What does that make me?  Her friend?  A hero?  A stupid person?  I don't know.  But she called me this afternoon asking if I could call some people to get her a stack of newspapers.  I helped her out.