Sandi had never really noticed the small civic center since it was hidden in the middle of the development. She sighed over the small assortment of cars that people had actually driven the 300 yards from their driveways and parked in the lot. What a bunch of shallow cunts, she thought.
She watched her husband check his watch for the third time in a minute. He was desperately making sure that they were at least five minutes late for the scheduled HOA meeting. They'd walked here as slowly as possible so Dan, who could sweat like a pig from walking up a single flight of stairs despite his fitness-club body, wouldn't completely soak his silk shirt. He was eager to make a good first impression and utilize the techniques in a blog post he'd found online regarding reforming people's impressions of oneself. Sandi couldn't care less, and the sooner the meeting was over the better.
Dan on the other hand was eager to rub elbows with Colin. Colin was the neighbor most men envied and wished they were. Largest house in the development by fifty-three square feet (the result of an unlicensed addition), local beauty queen trophy second wife (prom queen at the local high school and baby sitter of the children of his first wife), and a lovely midlife crisis-mobile, a 1981 Lamborghini Countach.
"Jesus, Tabitha actually drove that thing here? She lives a block away," Sandi said gesturing at a Expedition parked across two spaces.
"Honey, can you drop the environmental martyr act for five minutes?" Dan said. He straightened his tie again.
"Well, it's ridiculous. She could have walked like we did."
"I still think we shouldn't have. Look, I'm already sweating right through my shirt."
She watched her husband check his watch for the third time in a minute. He was desperately making sure that they were at least five minutes late for the scheduled HOA meeting. They'd walked here as slowly as possible so Dan, who could sweat like a pig from walking up a single flight of stairs despite his fitness-club body, wouldn't completely soak his silk shirt. He was eager to make a good first impression and utilize the techniques in a blog post he'd found online regarding reforming people's impressions of oneself. Sandi couldn't care less, and the sooner the meeting was over the better.
Dan on the other hand was eager to rub elbows with Colin. Colin was the neighbor most men envied and wished they were. Largest house in the development by fifty-three square feet (the result of an unlicensed addition), local beauty queen trophy second wife (prom queen at the local high school and baby sitter of the children of his first wife), and a lovely midlife crisis-mobile, a 1981 Lamborghini Countach.
"Jesus, Tabitha actually drove that thing here? She lives a block away," Sandi said gesturing at a Expedition parked across two spaces.
"Honey, can you drop the environmental martyr act for five minutes?" Dan said. He straightened his tie again.
"Well, it's ridiculous. She could have walked like we did."
"I still think we shouldn't have. Look, I'm already sweating right through my shirt."
