So...why are you telling me this?

I don't know what it is, but for some reason or another, people feel comfortable telling me way too much.

In my chosen profession it is very helpful, most of the time.  In my personal life, it can be both a blessing and a curse.  I thought I'd share the strangest one with you all.

I used to have a neighbor that was - how should I put this delicately - a little rough around the edges.  Some would say she was "rode hard and put away wet", but I wouldn't say that.  I'd probably say she was "rode hard and then left out in the rain to rust for several years".  I never would have said that to her face, though, as she was a nice person (to me at least) and because she probably could have taken me in a fight. 

She would always make time to talk if we were out in the yard at the same time.  If our grass got a little long she would mow it for us.  The day a few buddies were helping me rebuild the deck she brought over some beer for us and offered to help.  If they grilled out and had extra food she would offer it up.

All of which I considered very neighborly, and I tried to do the same when I could.

Mr. Rogers, also very neighborly.

Our conversations tended to be one sided, with her doing most of the talking.  Quite often she would be telling me the problems she was dealing with at work, and sometimes at home.  I thought it was a little odd that a woman 30 years my senior would be confiding in me, but I just assumed she didn't have anyone else to talk at.

I was out at a bar one night with a group of friends when she spotted me and came over to chat.  She was sauced.  She started telling me how unhappy she was in her marriage, and how her children had not turned out the way she had hoped.  That was, of course, no fault of her own.  It was her husband and the lack of support he gave to her when she disciplined them.

This went on so long that all my friends migrated away.  She was a bit loud, swearing profusely, and starting to slur her speech.  It wasn't exactly the conversation I envisioned myself being in at a bar where I knew several people.

She then informed me there was only one reason why she had stayed married to her husband for all these years.

Apparently, he was the most well-endowed man in the world and every few weeks he would, how should I put this, allow her to be reminded of that.

This gesture was part of the conversation.

At that point I was able to excuse myself and walk away.  Those were the last words she ever spoke to me as she died that night.  That's not entirely true.  I moved shortly thereafter for other reasons, and have not seen her since.  She is still alive as far as I know.

If you have ever been on the receiving end of a bizarre statement I'd love to hear about it.  Feel free, I beg, to leave a comment with your story.  If you'd like to follow me here, on Twitter, or on Facebook, feel free to do that as well.