New Englandy Things

The other day G went to buy a tool at an automotive store. He learned while shopping that he could rent the tool for sixty three dollars and eighty cents. He’s not a machanic, he likely won’t need the tool again so even though the tool cost fifty nine dollars, he considered the rental, asked the guy about it. He was told if he brought it back within 48 hours he would be given back the sixty three dollars and eighty cents.

G asked : “So, it’s free?” The guy looked at him and with the voice inflection only an impatient, grumpy New England man could, said “No. It’s sixty three dollars and eighty cents.” He didn’t add, “Are you completely deaf or stupid?”, but he sounded like he may as well have.

The next morning G got his money back and, well, the rental was in fact, free.

Oh the grouchiness, the odd confusions. G still can’t get over this business model.

I’m excited to go back to town hall and try to get one of the employees to come out to the house, so we can get a trench dug for a water line. I have thought of getting a job there so when a person goes in to ask a question, they’d get me, instead of one of the cranky cast of a work force they currently employ. I’ve wondered more than once if the job requirements include a generally negative disposition. I probably wouldn’t do well in that environment, so just as well.

My current job that I liked for its zen-ness has been worrisome lately. For reasons no one knows, they bumped one of their drivers into a full time position inside, without training him how to do much of what we do there. So he does everything interestingly different. An unusual amount of mix ups, losing orders and chaos has resulted. He has some notion that he is also a boss over everyone and gets upset when no one takes him seriously.

Tension has risen around this situation, I’m sure you can imagine. The fun zen vibe has been sadly replaced.

This morning G and I are waiting to go to a place an hour away. We don’t care to go.

We are waiting because…

I’m not sure what is happening or why, but I should absolutely not run over to this very popular garage sale that is a block away because what if I’m not here at the exact moment we are leaving.

Oh man.

This part I sort of understand, I’ve learned that G’s mom, like many people, stresses over getting ready to go places. She tries to hurry, even though there is rarely a strict time for anything. I’ve noticed that efficiently is not a thing, (most tasks are drawn out) so she doesn’t have much practice with it. The concept of hurrying is rarely tested. Ever seen someone trying to hurry when they are stressed? Add in that they only move in slow methodically practiced ways. We always tell her to take her time. It doesn’t matter to us how long she takes. It really doesn’t. Still, self imposed stress, lots of lost keys or glasses.

I was hoping she WOULD take a while so I could check out the sale. Communication around timing is also tricky, so better to be safe and just wait.

I’ve already had my fun for the day. I was pushing my luck as it was.

Lots of complaints about weeds, grass, traffic, etc. complaining is a perfered form of conversation. Meanwhile I climb into the backseat, country music is playing loudly so I can’t hear them anymore. Just banjos and yodeling. I’ve tried to gain an appreciation of this genre, but it rarely puts me in the good mood it puts G’s mom in, which makes it worth it. Sadly I forgot my ear pods.

It’s never one thing that tanks the day. Usually after a few errands, involving angry drivers who are impatiently enduring fellow drivers, speed limits, and parking. (they don’t have freeways here, but maybe they should consider building some so people can satisfy the need for speed). What they do have are long, winding, thickly tree lined, two way roads with double yellow lines, everywhere.

Everywhere.

Apparently the double yellow lines are optional if a driver is following the speed limit or going any speed, but in the way. This can really tick another driver off and commonly, they rush around the person in an exaggerated huff. It’s both frightening and surprising, but very typical.

By the end of the day, I’ve experienced enough disgruntled people who don’t like this or that. The way things are, what’s being done, weather, sports, people, there’s a long list. I’m usually exhausted from all the sighing and quiet exasperation. New Englanders are generally polite, (with a silent edge), side eyes, sighs and sarcasm pepper their complaining. Oh and also the assuming that everyone is shady and up to no good or just really really stupid.

I’m not a fan of trying to be understood here. It may not sound like I’m speaking another language, but since most people have already made up their minds about everything, anything I say is filtered through a lot of negativity and lands meaning plenty of things I didn’t say, so being clear is challenging. I do love a challenge. I don’t love being balled out by a plumber because he thinks I’m trying to get away with having water routed to the garage, because I guess I might be up to no good? Weird. But only to me. I’m not from around here, clearly.

We’re on our third plumber. I had a similar experience with finding an electrician. This new guy might be the one to make this miracle happen, you never know. I’ve alerted the town and it is awaiting the ‘pulling’ of the permit. There’s some amount of confusion around this, even though the form is only a half a page long and very straightforward. I get the feeling that progress isn’t wanted. Change is hard.

Suddenly, there is concern over where dirt will go during the excavation. This has caused loss of sleep, agitation and a general shift in whether the project can happen. That’s the latest issue. The dirt. Which will go back into the hole, um, after the pipe has been connected?

I’m learning that it’s all part of things New England. If I want to do anything, I have no choice but to wade on through, get over it. Find the silver lining. Keep moving. Let it all roll off my back. Euphemisms are sometimes helpful. Add in the muggy weather, no air conditioning, (New Englanders are so tough they don’t need the luxury of cooled air, I once went this famous tourist island getaway, not a single shop or restaurant had air conditioning, not one!) rain every day and mostly cloudy oppressive feeling heat, biting bugs that itch for days, and there you go. New England.

Crankiness is completely understandable.