They come by twos

I have a story.

Not long after we first moved here the "people that come to visit you in twos" stopped by to see me. I have no intention of changing faiths or even having a Bible study with them. But the more outspoken person was a sweet old gentleman who confided that he'd recently lost his wife. So I chatted for a few minutes before sending them on their way. Probably not a good move, but he seemed so lonely.

Fast forward four years and the guy was still visiting me. Always with a different person. He would always comment that I was hard to catch. Since I frequently found flyers on my front door, I knew he came quite a bit, when I wasn't home. But he was harmless and seemed lonely. He rarely chatted about religion specifically and seemed to enjoy the time spent just talking. But about a year ago I realized that it was getting more frequent and he'd started implying that I wasn't a Christian. That rubbed me wrong. So I told him very clearly that I was a Seventh-Day Adventist christian who attended church every week and was not interested. The lady who was with him got the message and convinced him they needed to leave. 

About 6 months later I was upset about something and not really feeling up to company. I heard the door bell ring. So I decided to have Dominic convince whoever was at the door to go away. I told him to tell them I wasn't feeling well and to call or come back later. 

I stood in the hallway and listened while Dominic answered the door. It was the elderly gentleman. And this time he was all alone. He asked to talk to me and my sweet son dutifully told him that I wasn't feeling well and didn't want to talk. And then I listened horrified as the man tried to convince Dominic to open the screen door (that was locked) and let him in. Dominic refused. The man then said -

"It's okay to let me in. I'm your mom's friend. She knows me and would tell you to let me in if she was here."

That's when I started to go get either my phone to call the police or something . . . else.

But as I turned I heard him tell Dominic he would be back.

I was livid! And honestly - completely creeped out. What happened to the sweet old man that seemed so lonely. I never once got the weird vibe, not once.

I kept expecting him to return and I was prepared to have some serious words with my fingers on the phone to call for back up if needed. But he didn't return.

Until yesterday.

I was busy folding laundry and watching tv. I had the tv turned up really loud since I'm partially deaf and had several other things making noise. Jon had taken the bicycle to work so I was sitting in a house with a tv blaring, 2 cars and 2 motorcycles in the carport, and a view of said tv from the windows in the door. 

I heard a slight noise that might have been a knock. I got up to investigate and saw the old man at my door. I scrambled back into the living room and out of sight. For some reason I glanced at the clock and noticed that I had 20 minutes before I had to pick the kids up at school. So I decided that, being a non-confrontational person, I didn't want to get all upset before I picked up the kids. So maybe he'd just go away if I ignored him. 

Never underestimate the determination of a person completely zealous about their faith. That man stood at my door and alternated between knocking, ringing laying on the bell, and trying to open the storm door. Dude was NOT giving up. I stood where I could see his car and it was a whole 10 minutes before I saw him walk to the car, shut the back hatch (?), and drive away. I was now completely creeped out. Who does that?!

And what is one supposed to do about over zealous religious people? 

After a discussion with some friends, a wise friend recommended that I call his church. So I did. I explained that he was probably a really sweet old man. But I was kind of weirded out and since I had no interest in converting, could they please make him stop. Since I didn't remember his name the really nice guy on the phone told me that if I was willing to give my street name he would make sure to try to find the guy, but get the word out to avoid my entire street.

He called back less than an hour.

"Ma'am, do you live at . . ."

I hadn't given him my address number. Only the street number.

"Yes."

"I've found the man you were talking about. And he won't come by your house again."

He then apologized once again.

So now my four year saga with that religion is done. My address is now on their black list. And I'm one of the very few blessed people in this town who can be assured of never having to answer the door to see two people in church clothes with Bibles asking me questions.

Stuck*

I had wanted a large walk-in pantry since before I could remember. Finally my dream had become a reality and I had the pantry of my dreams. It was large enough for a small bedroom. It was massive and all mine. I carefully stocked my pantry and sighed with ecstasy every time I entered.

This morning I waved to my husband as he left for work and began to get the supplies out of my pantry to bake something. Now there are a couple of things I forgot to mention about my pantry. It wasn't completely finished. The vent for the heating and air hadn't been put in and the door knob was on backwards. No big deal, I always left the door open so it was warm inside. 

As I entered my pantry this morning to gather the last of my supplies I heard a soft click behind me. Somehow the door had closed. No problem. I just needed a couple of things so it wasn't going to get cold before I opened it and returned to the kitchen. But to my surprise the door wouldn't open. Somehow it has locked behind me. 

I stood in stunned silence for a few seconds as reality set in. I was standing in a rapidly cooling room with no jacket, no cell phone, and a husband who wouldn't return home for many hours.

But no worries! I had a plan. A movie scene popped into my mind and I had the brilliant idea to pop the door off its hinges. Might be a bit difficult to explain to the hubby, but I would be warm. But my well stocked pantry was proving to be well stocked to eat, not escape. I ended up using a can to get the pins out, but nothing I did could ease that door off its hinges. My second plan of attack was to try the window. It's a bit far from the ground, but I should be able to manage just fine. I got the window open just fine, but I couldn't get the screen off. The tabs were on the outside. I seriously thought about cutting the screen (with the frozen peas?), but I remembered my husband muttering when he saw the bill for the windows. So I figured cutting up his nice screens should probably be the last option. By now I'm envisioning a very cold popsicle greeting my husband. I found some table clothes to wrap around me and I paced the room trying to come up with a solution.

Then the light bulb came on. In my pantry was a tiny door that led to the underneath of the stairs. It wasn't finished and I could probably escape that way. I gave a running push and bounced back like a ball. But after several kicks and a second running attempt I pushed through the sheet rock and landed in the foyer. 

Victory!

But to my chagrin I couldn't get into the house. You see, we don't ever use the front door, our friends know to come in the side door. There is a door from the foyer into the living room. I had, at some point, locked this door as well since it was so rarely used.

My victory now paled as I realized that I was still stuck. I still couldn't get into the main part of the house. I would be okay until my husband came home, but I couldn't remember if I'd turned on the oven to preheat and I really, really didn't want to miss my lunch because I was waiting to be rescued.

So I headed outside with my table cloths wrapped around my shoulders to see if I could find a stray window open.

Luck was on my side! A window at the back of the house was open and since the tabs on those nice expensive screens pointed out I could get it off and the window came open. But to my dismay. . . I was too short to reach the window. I'd gotten this far. NOTHING was going to stop me now. I pulled lawn furniture and stray items over to the window and began my precarious assent. Windows were not made to be crawled through, I can tell you that right now. After I had half of my body hanging on either side of the window I realized I'd picked the only window in the entire house that didn't have something beneath it. If any one had seen me doing a headstand before I dumped myself on the floor I would have died.

But I have escaped from my prison! I am warm! I can eat lunch!

Now I just have to figure out how to explain the wonky door on the pantry, the hole in the foyer wall, the missing screen on the window, and my bruises. 

Burglars?!

* This story did not happen to me personally. The names and places have been changed to protect the embarrassed.