Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Never Answering the Door Again

Ding Dong! I answer the door.

"Is this your lawn?" says the big sweaty man with a beer belly and a wiener dog. He's wiping buckets of sweat from his forehead with a dirty rag while he scans my shabby lawn with disgust.

"Yes." I say flatly so to express my disinterest in anything he has to offer.

"Are you going to keep watering it like this?" He says like a father who has found out his teenager is running the car without oil.

"We're moving." I hope this will make him give up and walk away. I've been dispensing prickly fevered anxiety needles throughout my pores all day and so far it has not worked at all. People keep talking to me.

A long pause. He does not turn and leave nor even step back. He wipes his wet face again and thinks about his next line, which is this. "Why are you moving!?" Not a quizzical small talk question, more like demand.

"Why not?" I said, since it's none of his business.

"Are you moving local?" he blurts whilst still avoiding eye contact and checking out my lawn.

"Yes. In a couple of weeks. So we don't have any money right now."

The man seems irritated at this news. As if I've really let him down. "Where's all your money?!"

"Its at the new house!" I started to feel a little defensive.

"So you've spent all your money on a house in the same place as your old house. [not a question, a recall statement of dismay and scorn]

"Yep." and I stood their waiting with my hand on my hip for his next tactical salesmanship question or perhaps a PowerPoint presentation. But he just turned and walked away. Not a good-bye or a screw you. His little wiener dog followed him.

He hopped into his repainted U-haul truck and left my neighborhood.

The lesson here is: Never open the door for a sweaty man with a little weiner.


  1. WTF??
    This is why I hate when the doorbell rings. You never know what the hell is on the other side!

    You should have offered that hot and sweaty man a bottle of cold water. Surely you'd like him to remember your hospitality so he can return again. (Haaa!)

  2. Geeezzz! Nosy bastard. I really hate intrusive people. Especially ones with little wieners.

  3. ewww!! It was probably that creeky sex molestor guy in the hood. slam the door next time! what the hell did he want anyway?

  4. that is the absolute weirdest story i've ever heard. honestly, i'm with wendy up there. i'm totally freaked out that he's a...a...a something real real bad. what the hell was he doing talking to you about your lawn? weird.

  5. Dudette, don't yer outgoing front door have a peep hole? If you woulda peeped through it, you never would have opened it to a strange sweaty man with a little weenie dog! Sexy gal like you needs to be more careful!

  6. Son't worry ladies. Did I forget to mention that I was holding a sawed off shotgun with a scorching case of herpes (the gun, not me) and the husband was around the back. Plus, I could have outrun him with one Birkenstock tied behind my back.


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