Friday, October 3, 2008

Where's Quickhide?


As I was saying, I've got the most interesting neighbors. Years ago, we had The Runner. Some neighbors were certain she was training for a marathon but my husband was not so sure. He was convinced she was running from something in her life. We'd see her many, many miles from home. It was all she did. She'd come out of her door early in the morning and run all day. Thoughtfully, while running, she'd left her young daughter behind at home with her mother.  Eventually, many hours later and well after dark, she'd come back.  

I think she was running from my next door neighbor Quickhide, the one on my left-who is completely out of her mind. When I first moved in here, I thought Quickhide was charming. And she was Middle Eastern, just like us. The only difference was she was the real deal, a Syrian immigrant. It didn't take too long for the real person within her to emerge. Quickhide would knock on my door at the butt crack of dawn, carrying an empty coffee cup and pretty much invite herself in for a pot of joe. Not a cup.  A pot. Subtle hints like starting to vacuum, dust and mop around her, just couldn't get rid of her. Soon, it was all about her. Can you shovel her snow? Can you trim her shrubs? Can you mow her lawn? Can you move her furniture?  Whatever the request, it was always prefaced with a complement. "Can your strong and handsome husband do something for me?"  When my son was old enough, the question became, "can your strapping young son do something for me?" This woman had adult children of her own who were fully capable of doing her chores.  Also, I think she's loaded.  If nothing else, she could have paid people to do these things.

I pretty much stopped inviting her into the house. I had to because she never knew when to leave and she couldn't take an outright invitation to leave-let alone a subtle hint.  With her around, I couldn't get anything done. Nobody could.   She hated being in her home and because of that, she became the entire neighborhood's problem. She was like Velcro-she'd stick to you like nothing else. There have been times over the years when I've watched every neighbor on the block scatter when they saw her coming. Everyone would be outside doing something in their yards but when they saw her coming, it was as if the plague were headed their way. That's when we took to calling her Quickhide. Quick! Hide! Here she comes.  Everyone would scatter leaving yard tools everywhere.

If we weren't careful when pulling into or out of the drive, she'd corner us to talk. And talk. And talk. And talk.  These were always one sided conversations about her.  Or her husband- but mainly her.  Poor Rachel has been used as an excuse for years.  "Look Quickhide, I'd love to stay and talk, but I can't leave Rachel alone."  And, "no, I don't need company.   You don't want to go in there because she has the flu, bronchitis, meningitis, pneumonia, malaria, ecoli, cholera, measles, chicken pox AND ebola virus right now."  If another one of us was in the house and saw one of us cornered, they'd step outside with the receiver of the phone as a ploy to say goodbye to Quickhide.  That person would say, "it's Grandma on the phone and something is terribly wrong."  I don't know if she knew it, but there was never anyone on the other end of the phone.  It was a prop.   She would then move along down the street to corner some other neighbor unwise enough to be caught unprepared.

The other day, I got a call to go out and pronounce a patient's death.  Now, I have one hour between the time I get the page, until the time I show up at a person's doorstep when a death has occurred.   We don't want family members to be alone during that time.  It's stressful enough and this is one of those times they really need us.   Unfortunately, I didn't check to be sure the coast was clear before I left the house.  Usually, I'm in my car with the windows up when I press the button on the garage door opener.  It doesn't matter if the coast is clear this way.  There I was standing there in my scrubs with my patient bag, computer bag and emergency box, when out of nowhere, Quickhide shows up and wants to talk.  I felt I'd been caught with my pants down.   I had to bluntly tell her, "look, I don't mean to be rude, but I have to go."  "Now."  Five minutes later, I told her forcefully, "look, you have to move out of the way, I'm leaving."  I even told her where I was going.  That someone had died and there was a family in need.  Even that didn't move her.  How can a person be this thick?  I don't have what it takes to be rude and often find myself cornered by her.  After 15 years, you'd think I'd know to send scouts out first to be sure I'm safe in leaving.  Someday, surely I'll learn.


7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Quick hide has relative and I think they were of Belegian decent. Remember our aunt and Uncle every Sunday they would show for dinner. It never mattered what time dinner was they would sniff it out and show up. If it was 5 they would show up at 4. Mom and dad even moved it up to 2 and they showed at one. I can clearly remember the quickhide, we aren't home.


FTM

Rudee said...

OMG- how can I forget that story. They were brilliant at that!

Brenda said...

Very funny image to go with this story Rudee. As always, you can really tell a story! Your neighbors are a hoot. But I think if I were you I would stay inside a lot, until you get to move to the country. But I will be waiting for your video of the "snow blower yard man". The "runner" woman still sounds mysterious.

BJ said...

Rudee.....you are so good at telling these stories!!! I've never lived anywhere like this. So your story makes me laugh......and glad that I haven't experienced a "quickhide". But in the building where I live, I have nosey neighbors who will leave notes on the bulletin board if you don't break down boxes for the recycling dumpster! It's like a mortal sin to not break them down!!! Most of them have too much time on their hands.

Cheryl said...

Rudee,
This made me laugh, but I know it is not funny. My kids have learned not to answer the phone or the door. I hate having people pop in, it makes me furious. I would never do that to anyone. Plus, I really am pretty anti-social around my neighborhood. I think you just have to be firm and rude. She sounds like she still won't get it, but at least you don't have to be afraid to leave the house.

Someday I will have to tell you about the psycho across the street from us. He is just scary, and I made it clear to him if he kept swearing at my husband everytime we put a toe outside our door (especially with my kids there) we were going to have serious problems. He has not said a word since. I guess I am more intimidating that I thought, LOL. I actually think I shook him up by marching over and confronting him.

Sorry about having to deliever such bad news. Your such a good person.
XXXXXXX

Sandy said...

OH wow, that would be SOOOOOOO irritating.

I had people like that in my old neighborhood where you had to hide from them. I abhor that!

We have one sweet lady, lives down the driveway from us and I hide from her. So do my sons, even now that they are men. She comes up to the house and first thing pinches your arm or your cheek and shrieks with delight over seeing you.. or rather, having somebody to listen to her.

Every morning I take my coffee out on the porch and position myself so when I see her off in the distance, I can move my body a little in the chair and be hidden by some bushes.

Miss 376 said...

We once lived somewhere with a neighbour like that. It was my mums greatest acheivement to move without her knowing what was happening until the removal vans were there-her face was a picture-couldn't believe someone was moving and hadn't told her all the whys and wherefores