Friday, September 15, 2006

It coulda been another type of story

The other night I received a strange phone call. A woman with a thick Eastern European accent spoke to me about a survey that I might have done and a prize worth over $100 that I could receive and was my husband home? J was 'out.' I was pissed off at him at that particular second and was waiting for him to get home so I could tear a strip off him for getting me pissed off in the first place. So I told the woman, very sweetly I might add, that 'no, my husband was not home but would be home very shortly.' 'Good,' the woman responded. Someone will come by to my door and give me a prize, after I had had a chance to look at, and comment on, a product they were going to show me. The only caveat was that my husband needed to be home. I hung up the phone and wondered what exactly had I agreed to. I called J and told him to hurry home because a stranger was coming to our door and he needed to be there. Now, J is not a stupid man. Knowing full well that I was pissed and knowing full well that he had a full pint in front of him and knowing full well that I wanted him home, to his credit, he didn't think I was lying. He told me that he was on his way. You see, in J's particular state, he believed that our house was being cased by burglars and that if he didn't get home quickly, something quite terrible might happen. My hero. Unfortunately, he passed on his concerns to me and, with my imagination, I began to believe that something quite terrible not only might happen, its occurence was unavoidable. I could feel my pulse begin to race.

I should take a brief moment to explain my heightened paranoia. I have always had a wicked imagination. When I first started working at the theatre, one of my shifts was an evening look after the office and answer phones type thing. I was bored so I began to snoop. Openning the bottom drawer of one filing cabinet revealed a chain saw ... covered in a red gooey partially dried substance. Blood!!! I freaked. I phoned J (whom I had met only 2 weeks before) and told him about my grisly find. Using a tone that hid his amusement very well (our relationship was young and he didn't want to blow it) he informed me that chainsaw oil was red. I was embarrassed. I told my boss the next day who got a kick out of my thinking him to be some warped killer. Especially when he reminded me that it was an electric chainsaw and he could only kill folks who stayed withing range of the ac cable. Before you get any ideas...I'm not dumb....just imaginative ok?

Back to the phone call. J made it home and, although a bit pie eyed, was ready to face any would be intruder. For a bit, I forgot about the phone call completely as I remembered, once again, why I was pissed off at him. I started getting into my beratement. Then there came a soft knock on our front door. I pushed J to the door to open it. I stepped back around the corner. The open door revealed a young man carrying a large box. 'Are you expecting me?' he asked. 'Come in out of the rain,' said J. Yes. It was also a dark and rainy night. The fellow then proceeded to empty the contents of the box and put together a vacuum. Well, not a vacuum cuz 'the technology is so different that we aren't allowed, by law, to call it a vacuum.' Sigh. It was our first ever door to door vacuum cleaner salesman!!! We called the kids down to watch. A jumped immediately into the box and proceeded to ask a thousand and one questions. S looked and quickly got bored. She's started reading and nothing will hold her attention for long unless it has a lot of letters. The fellow did a good job of trying to sell the machine. I had him clean the couch and our front room curtains. I also asked him to do the floor by the cat box...I had to see how well this machine picked up kitty litter. Suffice it to say, we did not buy this amazing machine. Even at its discounted price of $2100.00 (although, at one point, J actually asked the fellow to step outside so we could discuss it...this is probably why the woman who called said that the husband should be home...J has little will power when it comes to machines with space station plastic parts). J and I received coupons redeemable for 2 weekends away at a hotel. It might be legit. I might not. I don't mind though. I got my living room cleaned and J was home before 3am. All's well that ends well.