When I was in college, we left our front door unlocked. It wasn’t uncommon to go to sleep and wake up the next morning to find two or three other people sprawled out in the living room who were not there when I closed my eyes the night before.
In fact, that’s how I met one of my closest friends. I woke up one morning and he was crashed on the couch. Unlike most of our guests, he just never left. After about three months, we were all convinced that until he wound up in our apartment, he didn’t have a place to live.
I only share that story to prove that I haven’t always been as unneighborly as I am today.
I guess it was about 7:30 last Friday night and my wife and I were on our third or fourth episode in a row of Cobra Kai – I know I’m late to the party on that one – when we heard a knock on our door.
Actually, she recognized it as a knock. It was muffled because they were knocking on our storm door. I thought one of the cats had gotten stuck in the closet again.
Our porch was blacked out and unlike the rest of the neighborhood I don’t have one of those camera-doorbell things.
So I couldn’t see who it was and there was absolutely no reason for anyone to show up unannounced at my house.
A situation like that will awaken your senses.
I didn’t have a choice but to answer the door because even though I couldn’t see who was outside on my porch, they could easily see me laying on my couch like a freshly beached whale.
Now, I may not have a fancy doorbell-camera, but what I do have is a solid lighting setup. In other words, I know what the Almighty felt like when he said “Let there be light.”
I flipped the switch and now we were even.
Well, not exactly, my front door has some kind of ornate glass that lets light in, but you can’t really see through it.
Without exactly knowing what was on the side I opened the door and for a couple of seconds – it felt like minutes – I stood there dumbfounded.
In front of me stood a man and woman holding a cake – A. Cake.
Of the 1,218 things I thought I was going to find on the other side of that door, someone bringing me a cake was not one of them.
There’s a morale somewhere in that story.
I know I’ve been harsh when writing about my neighbors before and I’m sure I’ll do it again, but from this point forward those two neighbors are safe. It’s nice to know there are at least a couple good people left in this world.
And, while I’m being nice to the people who live around me, I’ve got to give the group I wrote about last week some credit.
Even though it took a while, they finally convinced someone to come pick up the debris they left behind while cleaning up the “entrance.” (I’m not going to explain the quotes again.)
They are a determined bunch.