In a recent poll at work, I was chosen (out of the candidate pool of me, Jeff, and Eric) the "most charming". I won't print my reply because my mom might read my blog someday, but rest assured I was aware of the irony.
Anyhow, some friends of mine are going on vacation and I agreed to check on the cat and water the plants a few times while they're gone. I went over to their house today to pick up the keys and meet the cat.
In case you've never been to my town, there are a few parts. There's the older part of town, almost entirely bounded by North Street, West Street, East Street, and Gibson (which I can only assume used to be named South Street), with Main Street running halfway between North and Gibson. On the other side of the highway, there's also a newer part of town which is all housing tracts that spread like fungus in the last fifteen years. I live in the older part of town with all the cool people. If you look at the last-five-days crime map, there is a fairly consistent square south of Main Street where no crimes have been reported, surrounded by areas that apparently keep the police department fairly busy.
I live smack dab in the middle of the non-reporting area. My friends live six small blocks east of me, right where it starts to get a little more interesting. It's not really a bad part of town, but the houses are a little smaller and the cars a little older.
My friends own a house that is probably described in real estate brochures as "charming". Or possibly "eclectic". It obviously started as one thing and was modified over the years to be something else, to the point that there is some debate about which parts of the house are the three "bedrooms" described on the tax document. The only shower is in the detached garage, and it has the first basement I've seen in this town. I really like houses that are a tad odd and this one certainly qualifies.
Anyhow, the neighbors seem friendly enough over there. So friendly, in fact, that five inebriated middle-aged guys tried flagged me down to try to convince me to drive them to "Frank's house" as I was leaving at 10:30 at night.
I refused, of course, but I said it as charmingly as possible.