Naked Bob

I started writing about this in my previous post but decided it needed a space of its own since the story goes back so far and has very little to do with our vacation. It is about my older brother, Ike. Ike is what you would call a friendly guy.

To say he is an outgoing guy is the biggest understatement.

Biggest.

You know I am pretty friendly - at least I give that vibe. My younger brother, Joel is friendly as well. My older brother makes us look like Scrooge. He makes friends at the grocery store, at the crosswalk, at the park; on every corner there is a friend for him to make. Great, you think. Friendly guy.

No. Tardy guy. He would get held up on his way home from school by a neighbor lady when he would make the mistake of walking on 'her' side of the street and gracing her with a hello. That little hello would turn into an hour. Nice guys can't walk away from a conversation.


I would love, love, LOVE to see Ike talk to Naked Bob - former neighbor whose name has been withheld for privacy. Naked Bob did not literally parade around in the skin God gave him but he did wear very little. Namely shorts and flip flops.

Shorts and flip flops are OK for the following people in the following situations:

1. Boys at the beach, pool, running through sprinklers
2. Men in decent shape at the beach, pool, running through sprinklers.

That's it! All other occasions require at least a tank top - even if it is a wife beater. Preference is a T-shirt over a tank top and for extra points the T-shirt should not have any reference to the bearer of the shirt being a Female Body Inspector or a consumer of watered down 'beer' like Budweiser or Miller.

Back to Naked Bob.

Naked Bob would not be so bad if his only offense was a visual assault on the eyes but no... Naked people aren't aware of how disturbing their scantily clad selves upset the puritanical American (it's a stretch to call a Seattle-ite 'puritanical', I know) so how can they be aware that their 'conversation' is not in fact a conversation but a soliloquy that the unsuspecting listener has zero interest in hearing? The victim, er, partner in 'conversation' may as well just shine a spotlight on the drone because that is all they are good for. Well, that and the occasional, "Oh, really!" or "Mhm."

I was caught many a time in the snare of Naked Bob. Trapped by ignorance, (all newbies to the neighborhood are caught sooner or later) you stay because you have no choice - at least that is what you think. You quickly realize you have to make an exit. Fortunately Naked Bob isn't much of a 'dancer' (you retreat, they advance).

The trick is to slowly back away - you must face him and continue your affirmations of "Ohs" and "Really's". He will talk louder and louder and take a few steps in your direction but he always returns to his post to await his next victim.

Once you master this technique then you are able to move on to the walk and talk. The key in this maneuver to is to not slow down. Slowing down is the kiss of death.

I've met the neighbor in my new neighborhood that causes people to run in-doors when they see her. Fortunately I've only crossed her path once. Well, she crossed mine but still - our paths crossed. If I only run into her once every year and half that is just fine by me.