Wednesday, August 7, 2002 |
10:48 - My what?
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As I was crossing the driveway heading for my car on the way to work this morning, a guy in a utility truck pulled up to the sidewalk.
"Hi! Are your mom and dad home?"
I must admit I was so taken aback that I can't remember what I said. Probably something like "Hhwhwaaaa?" Because he repeated it.
"Are your mom and dad at home?"
I'm 26. My hair is short, I'm wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a gold watch, I'm carrying an iBook and a couple of bills to pay, and I'm holding the keys to my suburbanite econo-sport wheelbox.
"I'm, uh, not-- no," is all I can come up with.
Something hits him. "Aah, are you the man of the house?"
"Well, I'm one of them..."
"You want your yard trimmed?"
I take his business card and tell him our yard is in the shower. I'm not home alone, nuh-uh, for reals.
I suppose I should be flattered and stuff, but... geez. What a freaky way to begin the day.
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