Breakfast with my frenemy Pollyanne Bilder — frankly any meeting with her, really — can be trying. We always seem to misunderstand each other.
“Did you hear they’re going to tear down the local history museum?” she asked, placing her rose-tinted Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses on top of her perfectly formed do. “There just isn’t any money for it.”
“Really?” I asked. “What a bummer. Not a complete surprise, though.”
“I knoooow. Soo saaad,” she said, as if she was talking about a pony that was denied a sugar cube treat. “But,” she perked up, “It’s a great opportunity! I’ll have a hot water with lemon, please.”
“That’s what you’re having for breakfast?”
She called the waitress back. “I’ll skip the lemon,” she said.
“I wonder what they’re going to put there instead,” I said, contemplating if an order of pancakes and french toast was poor form given Polly’s evident allergy to food.
“I don’t know. But that tiny space is a great opportunity. I’ve got some ideas. I should give the mayor a call.”
“Maybe they should just put up a statue honoring the city’s past,” I said. “In keeping with the heritage theme.”
“At the very least, now maybe the homeless will go somewhere else,” she said, sneering at a woman with a grocery cart passing by the window.
“Maybe they should put up a giant bronze earth mover,” I suggested. “In honor of all the developers that built this city.”
“I feel sorry for those people, but we can’t have them congregating on our streets if we’re trying to improve our image.”
“Or what about a giant bedroom set? A king-sized mattress, some night stands, a dresser. Or is that too on the nose for a bedroom community?”
“If we’re going to attract more businesses we have to clean up our act.”
“How about a big shiny model home? Or giant shovels? Or cars lined up bumper to bumper at a stoplight, angsty drivers on their way to work elsewhere?”
“OH MY GOD! Why are you so negative? Why do you hate developers? What do you have against growth and a widening tax base?” The color in her cheeks matched her bloody red lipstick.
“Dude!? All my ideas are paying homage to those who built and run this city and what they have done to, I mean for, us.”
“They’re great community partners,” she said. “They give back so much.”
“I know they do. I see them on their phones in their hybrid e-vehicles stuck in the same traffic as me. I’m sure they’re making deals for our benefit.
“Fine, you don’t like any of those ideas,” I said, “What about two 20-foot-tall granite letters that capture the spirit of this town and its shot callers — FU.”
Polly glared at me.
“What!? It could stand for future university. Or future urban development. The possibilities are unlimited!”
Polly didn’t say anything. She stood and left the table, leaving me stuck with the bill.
