Sunday, September 14, 2008

Maybe I want to be sterile.

So I was taking a nap this morning when someone rang the doorbell. I never answer the door, so I stayed where I was. They then proceeded to knock (kinda hard) twice, but I still didn't move. I knew where both my cats were (Bourdain at that moment was tear-assing for the closet and I had just seen Mouche, so I wasn't terribly worried about them having gotten out) and being Sunday, it wasn't anything for me.

Eventually I got up and got on the computer, only to have someone knock again. Due to the storms yesterday, I could only assume it might be related, so I thought fuck it, I'll answer. But there was no one there. Now, there is a large window right by the front porch that basically lets me watch people enter and exit my porch without them seeing me. So when the bell rang again, I watched, expecting to see the two boys from next door dicking around.

However, I saw two young girls, both in pretty dresses. And they didn't run away, infact they hung out in my porch for quite a bit. So I answered the door--and they didn't run off. Infact, as a one-day potential (though not if I can help it) mother, this meeting scared the shit out of me. The two girls were about eight years old, with nice names I cannot recall for the life of me. Seriously, like Azalea and Celeste, who the fuck knows. So they're just standing there and I'm all, uh, can I help you?

I have never seen small girls in this cul-de-sac, so it was already weird. They immediately said hi and that they do this all the time, just going around to say hi (wtf! I know it's a cul-de-sac and we're all friendly here, but I've been living here two years). They were also curious about my house because they thought it must be haunted. (Ah, yes, I'm getting that witch reputation already, good times.)

Apparently, the echo the porch creates made one of them think it was haunted and the appearance of a stone slab near the door (being used due to the storm yesterday) was a trap. Seriously, don't ask. But she asked, "It wasn't there yesterday, right?" So I'm immediately torn between two thoughts: on the one hand, I miss the imagination of being 8 and thinking a stone slab on the ground in such a position is clearly a trap. On the other, how the fuck often are you inside my porch that you know the position of what's inside?

But I explained that while I did infact own a black cat, the house was not haunted. So then the girl who lives around here was incredibly forward, stepping right up near the door (I had the door pulled up to me, they couldn't really see in) and asking if she could see him! I said no, the doorbell scares him away. She then asked if I could go get him. Bitch, please. I want to invite torment on my baby like I want you ringing my doorbell for five solid hours. I mean, they were perfectly nice girls, but Mouche would shit. (I simply said no.)

Another reason the house didn't sit with them, apparently, was that there were never any cars there. "We park in the garage," I explained. And they both got this look on their faces like, "Ohhhh yeaaaahh..." And one of them said theirs was full of stuff. Yes, I deduced as much. I never see this girl around, and it's a tiny street, so I don't know when she's doing all this stalking, but whatev.

I got rid of them and started to work again, only to be interrupted less than three minutes later. I was going to ignore them, as I have no desire to be an asshole, but 5-10 solid minutes of door knocking and bell ringing later (I have far less of a problem with the much-too-forwardness of meeting the neighbors than I do the TOTAL lack of manners in harassing someone not wanting to entertain you), I went back to the door. (There is no way I'll be seeing either of my cats for the rest of the day today.)

Somewhere in between them handing me yesterday's mail (this explains our great mystery of how one day last week our mail ended up in our porch) and one of them showing me the snail she found, I explained that I was working and the bell ringing is really the most annoying-fuck thing ever (maybe not those words) so they cannot do that.

You know, it's nice to be assertive and have a personality, but Jesus fucking Christ, where the ever-loving-fuck are your goddamn parents? What. The. Fuck. It may be time to start locking the screen door...


Veloute said...

You know, it would be a good idea to know who their parents are, just for fun.

Our girls like to talk to our next door neighbor, too. Um, they don't go over there without me, though.

Ellen Aim said...

My thought exactly.

They don't live next door to me, as I know both my next-doors. And yeah, just being able to see the parents AROUND would be nice. Wtf?

Mob said...

"So sweetie, do your parents live in this county? Did you happen to cross a freeway to get here? Oh, no reason, just curious..."

Careful, any number of horror flicks the past two years have been about roving packs of children tormenting adults...