Hi ya! Hey ya! Hope all's well with ya. All is well with us. I'm reaching into my archives for the next several days so I can play catch up around the house. "I'll do it tomorrow." has finally reared itself into today. Such is retirement. :-) Have fun out there.
Today's post (edited) was first published on May 13, 2010. Yes, this really did happen.
"Who can that be?" asked the husband, not getting up from his desk.
I scrambled up from mine and down the stairs. Not another salesperson from the carpet cleaning or bug zapping service, I hoped. I also didn't want to find someone clutching slick campaign material. Most likely no religious people; they rarely show up around dinner time. Aw, gee. What if it was a friend? The husband and I bought hot dogs at the Farmers Market for dinner, only enough for the Mama and us.
Our front door was open, but the security door was locked. "Hello," I called from the bottom of the stairs to a young man on the porch.
"Hello," he said, pressing his face into the grated door. I love that security door. I can see the people on the other side of it, but they can't see me. I'm just a voice behind it.
"What do you want?"
He stepped back quickly. "I couldn't tell where you were," he said, sounding embarrassed.
I laughed. I almost opened the door. Less gruffly, I asked again, "What do you want?"
"I'm not selling anything."
"Okay. What do you want?"
"Uhm, my name is Danny. I live down the street," he said, pointing to the north. I didn't recognize him from any of the houses on my block.
"This is going to sound odd, but I need an ingredient." I finally noticed an empty glass jar in his hand. "I'm cooking a special meal for my mom's birthday and I ran out of an ingredient."
He paused. Okay, I was willing to bite the line. I asked, "What do you need?"
"Would you happen to have some vodka or gin?"
Now I paused. Do I really want to give someone I don't know some liquor? "Sorry. Can't help you."
"Thanks anyway." Off he went.
Upstairs, the husband asked, "What did he want?"
After repeating the tale, the husband asked, "Why can't he go to the liquor store?"
We heard our next door neighbor saying, "Sorry, we don't have any."
"I've never heard of a neighbor asking for an ingredient," said the husband. "What's he going to make anyway? A martini?"
I wonder if the dude ever got his jar filled with vodka or gin.