Last weekend, Husband and I went on a drive through a couple new neighborhoods. We do this from time to time, peaking in on new construction, visiting open houses, and generally dreaming.
Anyway, we stopped at this one place where the builder’s cleaning crew was putting the final touches on a brand new house, so we asked if we could look around and they said that would be fine. So, we helped ourselves to a tour of a really lovely place that we could imagine living in.
But, just about the minute I fell in love with the master bathroom, we heard voices in the other part of the house. We walked into the living room to discover another couple there, and we assumed* they were also getting a tour.
Not quite so fast.
Turns out, they’re the new owners, having just had this lovely house built and soon to move in. And, as it also turns out, we were officially trespassing. But what really got the lady-of-the-house’s goat was the fact that we had parked in her new driveway. She was totally hung up on the fact that “not even they drove in the driveway.”
Let’s just pause here and consider that statement. Um, isn’t the purpose of a driveway to handle parked cars? No? It’s just me, then?
So, we made our apologies and got the heck out of her new house, making a new line of tire tracks on her no-longer-virginal driveway. And leaving them with a story to tell for the rest of their lives.
*We all know the definition of assume.