PRIDE COMES AFTER A FALL(ING OUT)

 

This post could well have been a Curmudgeon's Agony Aunt post but frankly I'm not seeking advice.

A few weeks ago, at tennis we learned that one of the members had died that morning. He was a nice old chap and I liked him. It upset me a bit to the point where I didn't feel like playing. I was a bit miffed at a couple of members who were getting frustrated that play had stopped after we received the news and were itching to get back on the courts. My friend Rod, who I've mentioned in this blog before asked me for the second time why I didn't want to play. I would have thought that it was self evident but he is a bit obtuse -  you can find mention of him in previous posts by going to 'search this blog' option in the right-side panel.

I snapped at him saying something like "I just don't want to OK? Why do you ask such stupid bloody questions?" I then went home.

Rod didn't respond to a text message I sent him in the afternoon - not an apology but a query on something else. He effectively ghosted me. This was on a Thursday, By Sunday I still hadn't heard from him which was strange as he normally hassles me to go with him to play snooker at another friend's place down the road. I always refuse as there is a fourth person who goes there who I don't like. It's been a standing joke for Rod to ask me to come. I saw Rod cycling down the road after snooker and he didn't call in.

We have a standing arrangement where he drives me, in my car, to the airport on the Monday mornings when I fly to Wellington and he picks me up a fortnight later. By Monday morning I still hadn't heard from him. He left me 'high and dry'. I drove myself, making arrangements with a 'Lock and Fly' company to safely store the car for two weeks. It was lucky that I left for the airport early as I might have missed my flight otherwise.

When I'm away Rod usually checks on the house for me daily as part of his walk around the bay. I can see by the recording security cameras when he's been. He didn't come near the place while I was away this time.

At tennis yesterday Rod was there. I didn't acknowledge or talk to him. He didn't talk to me either.

I can't be bothered.

The Old Girl asked me last night if I'd talked to him. When I said no she likened us to school children. School girls in fact. Well, she can have her opinion. As for me, I can keep a sulk going for a long time and my pride won't allow me to attempt any sort of making up.

So there! Yah boo sucks!