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Part 1l Surprise: Another OCS Emerges

Due to recent deaths in my family, I decide to reconnect with some of my Florida cousins. It takes me a few out-of-state social visits, but eventually--and unfortunately--I uncover another OCS person in my family. Surprise!

Older than me, petite and extremely energetic, my cousin has all the makings of  a great role model for aging. I figure I can learn a few things to enhance my life skills. Boy was I wrong!

At first, I was totally taken in by her niceness, her politesse. She seemed really happy to have me join her family and friends at the reunion venue at a Florida motel on the East coast of central Florida. We caught up on family happenings, and Barb seemed genuinely interested in my recent book publication of a biography on Beyonce. When the reunion ended, we pledged to stay in touch and we did, so much so, in fact, that my husband and I returned a year later to Florida for the wedding of Barb's niece. At that affair Barb and I didn't get a lot of "chat" time but that happens frequently at celebrations with 100 or more people in attendance.

Several years pass, we stay in touch, and I get a brainstorm. I'll fly to Fort Lauderdale, spend a few days with Barb and ask her if she wants to accompany me to South Carolina to visit another couple  I'm friendly with. She agrees, I figure we can rent a car and divide the expenses and the driving.

But the agreement does not have legs. I fly into Fort Lauderdale  slowly getting the feeling that my plan--the plan I thought we agreed to follow--is coming apart. Barb insists on taking her car and we drive to Savannah, Georgia, because Barb always wanted to go there and enthusiastically suggests we stop overnight. I notice she's not too thrilled about walking the scenic river area lined with shops and souvenir stores, but I attribute this to fatigue from the 3-hour drive from Florida. The next day I suggest we take a carriage tour of the older section of the city, and Barb reluctantly agrees. I am puzzled by her reaction since (a) she wanted to play tourist in Savannah; and (b) she had a good night's sleep and should be well rested. Also, a carriage tour eliminates all the walking, so that's not a consideration.

Barb barely tolerates the carriage tour, but a palpable tension emerges on the way to South Carolina. I offer to drive since she complains about the tedium, but she insists that no one should drive her car except her. She is adamant about this and I get a foreboding of "Danger ahead. Crazy relative alert." I accept her decision (what choice do I have?) and I pay half of the gas expenses, so I can't understand why she is so bitchy. We're using two GPS navigation systems to make sure we don't get lost (I brought my portable and Barb has one installed on her car). Her driving complaints worsen as we approach Conway in South Carolina. Barb comments on the location of my friends' house ("in the sticks") and is borderline rude when introduced to the couple, who have gone out of their way to cook us a steak dinner.

I try not to worry, but I do anyway, wondering if another OCS adult has surfaced, unbeknowst to me. Unfortunately my concern is justified. The next day we decide to visit a plantation. The tour is lovely, we take loads of pics, and I treat everyone for lunch at the cafe there, where we exchange pleasantries just like normal tourists.

The hammer doesn't fall until dinnertime. Outside on my friends' open patio, we eat fast food and Barb springs a shocker on me: She decides that the weather is going to be rainy two days from now, and we should get a headstart driving home by leaving tomorrow.

Me: But we just got here yesterday? We agreed to spend three days in South Carolina.
Barb: I never said that. Besides, it's going to rain and I don't like driving in the rain.
Me: I can drive safely in the rain.
Barb: No one drives my car except me.

No compromise is possible, and I'm upset. Bigtime. I go to my room and cry, then return to the den where I make another stab at changing Barb's mind. My only option would be to stay in South Carolina and let Barb drive home to Florida herself. I have half a mind to let her do that but I decide that it's not a safe or rational move to let an older person do a long-distance drive by herself. As soon as we finish breakfast Barb wants to leave, and I must follow. My friends are understanding--they've sampled a few of Barb's caustic remarks, which are phrased more as commands than compliments.

We start up the GPS equipment, pull out of Conway, and only speak when we have to during a very long drive to Florida. I quickly evaluate my situation. I definitely don't want to stay with Barb even though she still offers (in a begrudging way). Is there anything else nearby I want to do or see? In my current mood, I figure the best action I can take is to cut my losses. Staying longer in Florida means spending more. My decision made, I ask Barb to drop me at the airport. I'm going home. She is surprised but not disappointed. She is a busy lady. She tells me now that before I flew in to Florida, she was in California visiting her brother and his significant other. That was exhausting but wonderful. And in a few days she must get ready for an engagement party for one of her grandchildren.

I've missed the obvious.Barb doesn't want to miss any opportunities for excitement even if she has to knock a few people over on the rush to get in line. I was looking to befriend someone who would treat me respectfully and return kindness with kindness, but instead I found an OCS adult. Her blathering on about "my this" and "my that" typify the thinking of a  "me" person who is oblivious to everything but her own wants, needs and desires.

I've been had. Again. I swear that this is the last time. I'm going to clean house and everyone in my circle who fits the profile of an OCS is scheduled for dumping.

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