We have some neighbors who we don't see that often. They seem nice enough. They both put off kind of a retro vibe--she's got some big blonde hair, and he's got some rocking 70's style sideburns. Their house is a homey riot of paneling and shag carpeting, and on the rare occasions we've been inside they've always offered fondue and Harvey's Bristol Cream.
I had just gotten done cutting up all the cardboard boxes and I was taking them out to the recycling bin when I heard my neighbor calling out to me. He said he and the missus were pretty excited about one of their Christmas presents and wanted to know if we'd join them for some drinks later that afternoon. I said ok.
My bride and I strolled over around 3. We knocked on the back door and we heard a cheery "come on in, we're in the front room" from inside.
Once we made it into the front room we discovered that the present they were excited about was their new Polaroid Land Camera. We were greeted by the sight of the mister in his shorty velour bathrobe, Tiparillo dangling from his lips, clicking away with the Polaroid while the missus modeled for him.
That was awkward.