Gut Rumbles
 

December 15, 2009

A knock on the door

Originally published August 24, 2004

It was late and I was ready for bed. I heard a knock on my front door.

I thought that was strange, because I have a fully functional doorbell. Whoever was out there was knocking instead of ringing the bell. I grabbed a pistol, checked the load and turned on my porch light. I opened the door with one hand and a cocked pistol in the other.

I won't mention any names here, but I saw a hang-dog-looking fellow about my age standing there in the light. "Rob, can I crash here tonight? The old lady and I had a fight and she threw me out of my house. My keys are in there and she won't open the door." He WALKED all the way from his house to mine, and that wasn't a short distance.

I am not in the habit of taking in refugees at my house, but I made an exception this time. I knew the guy well (I ALSO knew his crazy wife) so I threw him a pillow and a blanket and told him that he could sleep on my couch. He did and I gave him a bacon and eggs breakfast plus a ride home the next day, when he and the crazy wife made peace and everything was fine.

What is it about wimmen that make them enjoy locking a man out of his own house? I had that happen to ME once, and my soon-to-be ex-wife already had all my clothes thrown into my truck.

I should have kicked the front door down and claimed what was rightfully mine.

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