Why does Narelle always have to be so darned smug? Sure, she’s better than everyone at virtually everything, from making money to volunteering at a soup kitchen to having a good haircut. But that doesn’t mean she needs to let on. Can’t we all just pretend to be on the same level?
Here’s an example. Last night she rocked up for dinner in little old sedan that looked, well… pre-loved, to put it diplomatically. Of course, we asked what had happened to her beloved beemer, and she said she’d auctioned it to raise money for building a children’s hospital in a war-torn country. Gobsmacked, we all proceeded to feel bad about our nice cars, which we’d mostly acquired in order to keep up with Narelle. You just can’t win with her.
To make matters worse, she’s always saying that life isn’t a competition. It is, though – especially when you have a friend who’ll sell her luxury car for charity, or delight in reuniting a lost cat with its owner, or stop on the side of a busy highway to hook an elderly driver up with a mobile auto electrician. Hobart locals know and love her for constantly doing stuff like this, and it drives me bananas.
You’d think it would be easy to use these exploits as inspiration for self improvement, but it’s not that simple. Narelle’s benchmark is simply not possible for mere mortals to live up to. Not only is she a valued member of the community, but she also manages to sport perfect hair and a perfect wardrobe of designer pantsuits. She even has perfect toenails, teeth, taste in home decor, TV-watching habits and tyres. Yes, tyres. Hobart roads and their general quietness notwithstanding, you’ll never see Narelle skipping a routinely scheduled tyre replacement.
Now that I think about it, she does seem to have a particular thing for car maintenance. I guess that’s why we were all so surprised that she’d shed her BMW. Then again, the car she’s got now is what you might call a ‘fixer upper’, so maybe she’ll be in her element.