My Husband Is Satan

Or so it would seem, according to our former neighbor. As his bride, I guess I could be Lilith if IP is the King of Hell?

We’ve run into our lovely former neighbor twice in as many days. Both times have been marked with her shooting us the dirtiest looks known to man. On Halloween night, as we descended from our damned lair to go to dinner, we passed by our old neighbors as they were trick-or-treating with their children. The husband, congenial as ever, greeted us; she simply glared at us, obviously outraged that we chose to exit the building at the precise moment they were visiting our downstairs neighbor. Today (All Saints Day!), our former neighbor was decidedly not saintly when she swerved her child’s stroller wildly out of the way as our paths crossed—they were coming back from a walk, we were headed to the gym to sweat out our unforgivable sin. Again, the husband greeted us nicely as she huffed and puffed away, offended that we’d dared to leave Hades and run into them once more. The husband actually looked pained; his wife is intentionally rude to us and I think he’s embarrassed by it.

So to her I say: please grow up, ma’am.

Listen, I know how to hold grudges—do I ever! I’m still mad at the Ann Arbor Briarwood Victoria’s Secret employee who wanted to give me a makeover and, when I declined, asked, brow furrowed at my makeup-less face, “Are you sure?” (If you hear a low exclamation of disbelief, that’s IP still not believing that I remember that, more than seven years later.) So my husband banged on his ceiling a total of four times between late 2005 and early 2006 when he lived below you—get the hell over it, already. I know he didn’t handle it in the best manner, and I said as much to our lovely former neighbor once, a couple of years ago. I was coming home, alone, from a long day at work and ran into the oldest child (who is cute) and former neighbor; she actually had the oldest child introduce himself to me and asked my name. She offered her hand, I shook it and said, “I’m IP’s girlfriend—I know we weren’t off on the right foot, but I hope we can put it behind us. Your family seems cool.” Lovely neighbor looked stunned and nodded, but from that day forward she’s gotten even nastier. When I offered them a congratulations on their newborn baby a year ago (who is sooooo cute, by the way), she didn’t acknowledge it, just her husband.

I don’t know, if I were pulling the stuff that she’s pulling, IP would be pissed at me and would ask me to please grow the hell up; I’m not saying that a significant other can or should dictate the attitude of their partners, but I’d be embarrassed if IP were ashamed of my behavior, and I like to think he’d feel the same way if I pointed out he was being an unreasonable jerk to someone for something that happened a long time ago. (In fact, I can think of an example in which IP had to work with someone who was a pretentious ass to him in a former life, but IP was a professional and pushed it aside in order to work harmoniously together.) I have no doubt, as I said above, that her husband’s embarrassed, but maybe she feels we’ve beyond forgiveness, being from Hell and all. I guess we’re from the Outer Ring in the Seventh Circle, violence to property and people since IP banged on his ceiling a few times, begging for peace at 7am on a Saturday? Ow, immersed boiling blood, that hurts! Maybe she does think we belong in the Ninth Circle, though, and Satan should grow two more mouths four punishment alongside Brutus, Cassius and Judas; I guess maybe we’re traitors to God on some weird level? Hmm. Then again, if IP is Satan, he can’t really eat himself, can he? And I’m really stretching it, aren’t I?

I need to read The Inferno again.

Anyway: grow up, lady.