"STAY AWAY!" He shouts at me again. Then he shuts the door. What an awful neighbor. I just brought him muffins, and yet here he was yelling at me to stay away from him because he didn't want them. Why? I wonder if there wasn't anything I could do to make him like me. This was the fifth attempt with these muffins. Maybe he didn't like muffins. So I make cupcakes the next day. I sell the muffins at my bakery. They sell like hotcakes. I have my own bakery in town, and it is the only one. Everyone loves my bakery. They always praise my work. They say the reason why it is the only one is that it is so good that they could not challenge it.
My new neighbor kept pushing me away. No matter how many times I tried to welcome him in, he pushed away. So instead of being my friend, he was going to be my enemy. Fine by me. I had to just push him away for now. So any time we were out at the same time we would argue about everything. Roses, the new plants, changes to our houses, noise, and just about anything else. I'm pretty sure he spied on me, as he knew what went in and out of my house. And who for that matter. Once, I was having a party. It was my twenty-fifth birthday. I forgot completely about him. I set up my backyard and put out refreshments. My family came, a few of my friends and all of my employees.
A few cars pooled, but most drove their own car. So they parked in my driveway. Well, my shared driveway with him. And it was taken up by all the people's cars. Well, to put this in perspective, he never did leave to go out with anyone. No one went into his house either. Pretty lonely. But he never left his house after eight. Well, this particular night, he threw a total tantrum. As he "needed to go somewhere." Of course. To ruin my life, he's now going to interrupt my party. Of course. Why must he have to interrupt my party? He had never needed to leave his house after eight. Never had he traveled. He came back only five minutes later, to go inside. He shouldn't have interrupted my party. Especially when he didn't even need to leave. He could have probably just walked.
The party was practically ruined. My friends left about ten minutes after he came back, and my mom helped me clean up. They questioned me about him, and I told him why this was weird. They were just about as confused as I was about it. They left puzzled. I had such a deranged birthday party, that I promised myself that I would not have another party until we make up. Life resumed, until one day he entered my bakery for the first time. It was a random Wedsnday in October. The day was going by pretty slow, as the morning rush was over. So we were not doing much. When he came into the bakery. He sat down at one of the tables. I told one of my employees I would handle it. I went over to the table as slowly as possible. He was studying the menu, a bit too closely if you ask me. I want to ask him what he's doing.
But I decide not to. I internally wish to fight with him, tell him what's what. This is my business after all. I think about kicking him out, but I know he hasn't done anything to be kicked out. "How may I help you today," I ask as politely as I can. I hate to try to be friendly like this, but if I don't show that I am polite, people might notice ant that would be and for the business. I need my business to do well, especially as I have slaved away for so long to get my business together. So I have to make sure that every customer is treated the same as the next. As torturous as it may be, because some customers may not deserve it as much as others do. I don't know whether he is ignoring me on purpose, or if he is just really fascinated with my menu. And one sounds more likely than the last. I repeat myself.
"Oh. You." He frowns. "Of course you work here. Well, I will have a coffee. Not too hot, not to cold." All that pouring over the menu for a coffee? I had a hard time believing that. Whatever. I go back to the kitchen and I got the coffee. I let it sit in front of the fan to cool it. It is still warm, but slightly less warm. I walk it out to him. He takes the cup and takes a sip. He then proceeded to spit it out. "Too cold." He hands me the cup. I go into the backroom and put it on the coffee machine. Then I head back in. The beverage is only a degree warmer than before. He takes it and swishes it in his mouth. I suppose it satisfies him, because he says nothing else. He didn't spit it out this time. Better than last time. When I got home that night, he yelled at me "Stupid barista! Park your car the other way!" I am insulted. I'm an entrepreneur. Not just any barista!
I tell him off and leave my car the way it was. The next day, there was a little letter at my poarch. "Sorry for last night. I promise to make it up to you." After that, he started being a little nicer to me. We started being friends, and we were friends now. Eventually, he even asked me out. And soon enough we were going out. We were in a three year relationship when he asked me to be his wife. We married two months later, a small little wedding it was. Just his family and my family. A couple of our friends, but only the closest of them were invited. Now, with our first child on the way, we have never been more in love. I think it was a miracle that that day happened, as offended and hurt as I was.