The New Neighbor

Yes, Ma'am - Conclusion

My thoughts were interrupted by an overly loud voice saying; "Who have we here?"

I am surprised I did not get an instant migraine headache with how far I rolled my eyes in my head. Both ladies chuckled at my actions, then Mommy neighbor turned and introduced us to her husband. She explained how she and my girl are good friends and we are neighbors from down the street and we were seeing one another.

Typically, when I am introduced to someone I am meeting for the first time, I don't blurt out that I am a firefighter. Women, for the most part, do not ask what I do for a living after introductions. Men, however, ask soon thereafter so they can begin the bragging and chest-puffing ritual of male dominance.

One thing I have learned with my tenure in the fire service, there will always be someone better, tougher, smarter, and has experienced more harrowing situations than me. Just ask them.

Mommy neighbor's husband was no exception.

We did the customary shaking of hands and nice to me you. Without a pause, he asked what I did for a living.

"I work with an independent contractor doing handyman work and light construction," I answered.

"Well, people gotta make a living I guess," he huffed, "I am a regional sales rep for an internationally known business machine company."

"That is just his part-time job, he is a career firefighter. He pretty much works two full-time jobs." My girl retorted.

I inwardly winced at her trying to defend and protect my honor. I made a mental note to tell her how I couldn't care less what that guy or any person thought of me or what I do. However, I did appreciate her desire to show how proud she is of me and what I do.

I tried to apologize and let Mommy neighbor know I did not blame her for what was about to follow, with my look.

It felt as if all of the surrounding air were being pulled into his lungs creating a cyclonic effect. He was gathering breath in order to proclaim all of the life-saving heroic deeds he had accomplished throughout his lifetime. Many times the exploits vomited from the mouths of men like this included how they had to tell the firefighters what to do because they stood around and did nothing. It never failed, in their rendition of the story, they saved the person's life.

"...so I yanked open the door, undid her seatbelt, I picked her up and carried her away from the car. I knew it was going to blow up because it was catching fire. I saw the smoke coming from the dashboard. The idiot firemen didn't even spray the car when they got there, so I went and grabbed the big gulp cup from my truck, I filled it up with water from the ditch and I splashed it on the dashboard."

I didn't have the heart to tell him, his efforts were useless. The smoke that usually rises from a dashboard after an accident is typically the dust and residual powder from the airbag deployment. No need to worry about spontaneous infernos that would melt the eyelids. Plus, if the lady had hurt her neck, he would have caused more damage when he moved her without the proper techniques in stabilizing her spine.

But, I have been through this song and dance numerous times in my life. I stood and listened to the puffy chested, narcissistic, sales rep spew forth his exploits with patience and a smile.

After he ended his heroic proclamations, he attempted to talk about more "manly" topics that included his high school sports achievements. Between his self-indulging and self complimenting words, he would demean and degrade Mommy neighbor.

"Don't you think you are kinda too big to be wearing leggings," or, "Maybe you should get a bigger sweatshirt so it will cover that big butt?"

He would laugh at his words and nudge me in a jovial way after making his degrading remarks.