When Rick opened his door, he was surprised to see Porter standing there.
“Ah, you are home,” Porter said. Porter lived across the street.
“I’m home,” Rick said, with a smile. Rick noted the tea set out on Porter’s front porch table. “Can I help you with something?”
For weeks, Rick walked by Porter’s house while Porter set up afternoon tea. Out of a loyalty to a made-up ritual, Porter felt like he needed to invite anyone he saw to join him for tea. Rick knew that Porter did not like him, so he tortured Porter by accepting every invitation.
“I just wanted to make sure you were home,” Porter said, running his hand through his hair nervously.
“I am,” Rick said, smiling. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, I’m just about to have some tea,” Porter said, motioning over to his porch.
Rick ramped up the torture of Porter over the past weeks. He brought friends. He played his accordion. He even livestreamed it to social media. Still, Porter kept asking him to have tea when he walked by, even though he did not want to ask Rick.
“Well, I hope you enjoy the tea,” Rick said with a smile. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Over the weeks, Rick got bored trying to get Porter to stop inviting him for tea, so he moved on and forgot about the ritual. However, it had been a week since Rick walked by during tea time.
“No, I was just checking to see if you were here,” Porter said. He turned and walked off Rick’s porch.
Rick smirked for a moment, then yelled after Porter, “So, is tea by yourself lonelier than you thought?”
Porter looked back and nodded.
“Want to invite me over?” Rick asked. Porter nodded again. Inside, Rick was gleeful. He actually liked Porter—the sarcastic, curmudgeonly, 24-year-old neighbor. “I’ll be there in a minute. I won’t even bring the accordion.”