Monday, December 31, 2007


Happy New Year's Eve!

It's almost here! The time when you get to screw up checks and signatures by writing 07 instead of 08!

This really happened.

It was 9 or 10 pm on Saturday night. We are sitting in the living room reading or playing Blokus or watching TV or all 3 when we hear a knock at the door. WTF? We don't really have any "pop-in" friends and most are out of town anyway. Our neighbors recently arrived back in town but have never knocked on our door. I'm intrigued and wary of late-night doorbell ringers, but I still go take a peek. J's holiday sign is covering our peephole rendering it useless. I try to look out the kitchen window but it can only see a small corner of the porch. Ignoring most of my good sense and using some "it's the holidays!" blissful ignorance, I opened the door. Before me stood a guy. He had a scrape on his nose and also what looked like a mini black-eye beginning under each eye. He proceeds to say that he's drunk and would like a ride home so he won't get arrested. I'm speechless. So many scenarios are running through my head. Kidnapping, burglary, murder, grand theft auto, sex slave, who knows what this guy's intentions and ulterior motives are! Aaaah! I say I need to get my shoes on, close the door, lock it and go sit back down. I relay all this info to Joan and she asks if I'm really going to give him a ride. I'm not sure, but the only reason I believe him is because he reeks to high heaven of alcohol and is obviously drunk. I decide that this will be my good deed towards men for Saturday and get my pants on. J wants to come too and I'm glad she does. At least if the shit goes down, I'll have another person on my side.

We go outside to where Mr. Drunky Pants is sitting on our stoop. He offers "a few dollars" and thanks us for taking him home. J sits in the back of Focus and keeps her eyes peeled. As I'm backing out and driving, I try to keep an eye on the road and the other on this guy. Before we left I asked if he had any ID. Nope. Okay, no ID means he was at someone's house and then they kicked him out. Bingo. I ask his name and it's something like Caldy Holiday. He went to Daniel High School. He lives in Tennessee but left his wife up there. "It's a long story", he says. "I'll bet", is my reply. I feel better that nothing out of the ordinary has happened and let it remain silent in the car. My mind reels with what I would do if he pulled a gun or something. Later I learn that J is thinking the same thing. Go for the eyes was her plan, and a pretty damn good one I might add. My plan is to slam on the brakes and grab for the gun, if that happens. I'll take the bullet for J.

He slurs some directions and we wind up on Wellington Way:

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He points out his house and I stop. Thanks and off he stumbles towards the house. J and I both let out a sigh of relief and head home. We're discussing it and I still don't know why I decided to give him a ride. All the possible negative outcomes greatly outweighed the one or two positive outcomes, and yet I still did it.

Maybe I'm too trusting or maybe I saw some drunk kid who needed a lift home. I'm just glad I'm still around to talk about it. I probably shouldn't have answered the door.

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