The Darwin Exception

because it's not always survival of the fittest – sometimes the idiots get through

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Strangers in the Night

Posted by thedarwinexception on July 15, 2008

So I had to tell you all about the new game in town. It’s called “Go Knock on Someone’s Door at 2 in the Morning and See what Happens”. I think it must be a “Fuck You All – We’re Bored and School’s Out” teenager thing.

We got tagged the first night of the new game. Scared the shit right out of me – and whoever knocked on our door and then hid must have gotten bonus points because of Paul.

See, it happened last night. I’m sitting at the computer at 2 AM (of course – I can’t sleep, so might as well be on Ravlery, right?) and Paul’s asleep (of course, because if he sits down for more than 5 minutes, he’s asleep no matter what) and since my computer is right next to the open window in the computer room, I can hear shit. Like someone coming down the street. I thought it was a zombie, because it wasn’t a running sound, or even a walking sound, it was a shuffling sound. And only zombies shuffle, right?

The dog down the street heard the shuffling, too, because it started barking. Which made the dog next door bark – and then the dog across the street bark, until we had like a whole fucking dog symphony.

I paid no mind to the dogs barking (used to it), and the dog symphony muffled the shuffling sound, so I kept on Ravelry-ing.

Until the pounding on the door.

This was a POUNDING. Like “Dog the Bounty Hunter is paying a visit, motherfucker – open the door” pounding.

Then, of course, our dogs started barking.

And Paul kept sleeping.

And I was fucking SHAKING. That’s the kind of pounding on the door it was. It ran through my mind “Are the cops here?” But I quickly dismissed that – I would have heard the car, and then I thought of the shuffling and I was convinced the zombies were coming to take back their hang tags or something, and I got really scared and nervous. I mean, who POUNDS on the door like that unless it really IS Dog the Bounty Hunter, or the Cops, or the Zombies? I mean, it’s not good news in any event.

So I finally woke up Paul.

“PAUL!! PAUL!!” Go into the bedroom “PAUUUUUUUULLLLL!!”

He finally wakes up, gets out of bed, says “Fucking A – you woke me up.” (Yeah, that was the fucking idea, fool), and then there’s pounding again. POUND POUND POUND. Now I’m almost crying, and Paul says “Who’s pounding on the door?’

[SIDE RANT: You know what pisses me off? Rhetorical questions. Like when the phone rings and I’m sitting on the couch right next to Paul and the phone is in the other room and Paul says “Who’s that calling?” And Paul doesn’t ask rhetorical questions – when he asks me a question, he expects me to like know the answer. Even though it’s unanswerable. And that really pisses me off. Like I know who’s calling. What the fuck? Is there like a fucking caller ID unit in my ass only he can see? Or when I’m sitting on the couch right next to him and I’m knitting and he knows there’s no fucking clock in the TV room and he’ll say to me “What time is it?” How the fuck do I know what fucking time it is, fool? So lately I’ve been starting to answer him when he asks me stupid fucking questions I have no answer for. I just make shit up. “What time is it?” “It’s quarter of 2, Paul.” It could be fucking midnight – I’ll say “It’s quarter of 2, Paul.” “What’s on TV tonight?” “Mister Rogers and Captain Kangaroo are having a smackdown match on TNT.” “What are the dogs barking at?” “There’s a squirrel fucking a cat in the driveway.” HOW THE FUCK DO I KNOW??]

So Paul, in all his rhetorical question fucking glory gets out of bed and says “Who’s pounding on the door?” Like I’ve gone down there, checked, greeted them, and told them “Wait – keep pounding until I get Paul out of bed.” Jesus Fucking Christ. So I said “It’s fucking SANTA CLAUS Paul, he’s coming early this year, didn’t you hear?”

So Paul goes downstairs muttering all the way “It’s not Santa Claus…” And oh, did I mention? Paul is buck ass naked. He had picked up a hand towel off the couch I had used earlier to wash Milo’s face (yeah, I wash his face after dinner….) and he’s trying to decide which is going to be most important to cover – his ass or his dick, because with that little towel – he ain’t covering both.

So he decides to cover his dick, runs down the stairs muttering something about it not being Santa, and goes to the door, swings it open – and there’s no one there.

So now Paul is standing in the doorway with a little yellow flowery towel covering his dick screaming “Who’s out there?’

Honestly, I was still scared – really scared – I thought for sure someone was going to shoot his ass. I was hoping that the mere picture of this six foot two guy with a yellow flower towel covering his dick would amuse someone enough that they would be laughing so hard as to miss when they shot, but I really did expect to hear gunshots.

Paul wasn’t satisified with the lack of response he was getting, and he decided that he would loose Holly on them – I don’t really know when he decided that Holly was like some great seek and retrieve dog – I mean, you know she’s going for the nearest wood pile to start eating it, or maybe a tree to gnaw on, but he got Holly, threw her out on the front porch and said “get em Girl”.

Holly immediately flew into the backyard, probably chasing a squirrel or one of the next door neighbor’s 50 cats, Paul said, very self satisifed “She’ll get them”. And I simply asked “Get them and do what?”

I guess that’s when Paul realized that Holly isn’t exactly the most viscious of dogs in the world, and he squared up his little towel to follow her out back. I told him “Don’t go out there, Idiot, someone’s going to shoot you in the ass.”

I went back int he house, looked out all the windows to see if I could see anyone, and tried to just calm down and stop shaking – I really was still shaking. So scary, really, the whole thing.

Paul came back in (with Holly – who had a stick in her mouth), and pronounced that there was no one out there. I told him it was probably one of his drunk friends, and he said no way it was one of his friends. He went back to bed.

It was only the next day when one of Paul’s drunk friends actually came over that we realized we weren’t the only ones with visitors that night. Just out of the blue the drunk friend said “Yeah, I was up all night – somebody was pounding on my door at 2 in the morning…..” Then Paul went over to the preemie baby’s house – and apparantly someone was pounding on THEIR door in the middle of the night, too.

Then the girl I made the prom dress for said that she heard from some of her friends that a whole bunch of kids were going around knocking on people’s doors and hiding to see if anyone came out.

I told Paul that the video of him in the little yellow towel and his ass hanging out the back was going to end up on YouTube any day now.

I would pay money to see it.


14 Responses to “Strangers in the Night”

  1. Hot Damn!

    I bet that was scary though. Not knowing what is going on or who is pounding on your door. But…..I would have gotten his picture as he was walking back in the house, little yellow tea towel and all!!!!!

    Great story

  2. AtwoodLady said

    ROFL…….what a great story even tho you were scared horrendously. Kids think this kind of stuff is funny…..wouldn’t be so funny, if they caused someone to have a heart attack.

    I am with you on those rhetorical comments. I will take a phone call for DH and write down the name and phone number and leave it on the table for DH. When he comes home, he will look at it without reading it and asks “what is this, who is this, when did he call and why did he call?” I simply say “no clue” while I am thinking ‘I used to be a legal assistant and if you paid me the salary I used to get, I might get the guy’s, SS#, medical history, how many times he has been married, how many kids he has and their ages and school history, has been in prison, has a job and how many he has had since he graduated high school and if he has any tatoos. But as I have been married to you for 40 years with a measureable salary cut and dubious benefits, you simply get this guy’s name and phone #’.

  3. Val Dalton said

    OMG that is great! I can so picture Paul in that towel. I bet next time they do come back with a video camera haha. Good thing they didn’t come to my house or they would have seen what its like to wake up a pregnant women in the middle of the night!!

    I think i’m going to use those answers you give paul for my boss when he askes me stupid questions like that. Damn thanks for the laughs!!

  4. Sandy said

    So, what words do we search with on You Tube to find Paul? I know what they should be, but have this fear of what might show up besides Paul and his “cheery” tea towel.

  5. Caroline said

    So sorry that those nimrods scared the shit out of you! I bet that this story that will be hilarious in retrospect.

    However, this is another reason why they need to keep those stupid little shits in school year round. Too much time on their hands for idle minds. If this continues someone is going to open the door with a 22 blast, then you will have the news media all over the story claiming how some “psychotic homeowner” over-reacted to a harmless teen-age “prank”. I am sick of summer already, 2 weeks of over 90 degree plus high humidity weather really puts me in a foul mood.

  6. Malone Leslie said

    I laughed until I cried. OMG- Too funny!

  7. Kim (Canaada) said

    Oh the stories and tales the originate from Malone…You gotta love the ones of the chuckling kind…
    Some make me want to pack up, move my ass on over to the American side, and become a “Malone-ian”!!
    Others such as this one, make me damn glad that I’m over here living my quiet, peaceful, little existence –
    Thank you for sharing that!
    I’m always up for a laugh or two, and this one did not disappoint! LOL!

    Fonzie :`)

  8. Kim (Canaada) said

    Hey Kim –

    Just did some SPECTOR checking around and it looks like things are set for, as follows:

    Barring any more bizarre twists, PRETRIAl hearing, is set for July 29/08.
    RETRIAL, set for September 29/08.

    Hope you’re ready, and good to go…This will definately be an interesting second round!
    And I am certainly looking forward to your verbatim re-caps, and hilarious opinions and commentaries – You will be covering this, right?

    Fonzie :`)

  9. Chrissycat said

    A similar thing happened to my husband and I one night at our old house in Akron. I wake up from a sound sleep at about 2 AM to the sound of some FOOL walking down our street, in the inner city, singing; LOUDLY and POORLY. So, I listened, until the sound changed from singing to BANGING. Urgent and loud banging, louder than the singing, and it was taking place ON OUR FUCKING FRONT DOOR, of all places. It was like I had a mental link with this sorry bastard and I reeled him right onto our front porch.
    This was the exact moment that I learned that the glass front of our front door, had been replaced with WOBBLY plexiglass by the previous owners of our house, and every bang was emphasized by a sound that resembled the saw being played in ‘Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport’. You know what I mean?
    Scared the bejeebers out of me because I could imagine this bardic banger breaking right through to our living room. PLUS, that VERY night I saw the movie ‘In The Bedroom’ where one of the characters takes a bullet in the FACE from a late night visitor who also banged away at the front door.

    Yep…Talk about Trauma. I know how you feel, Sister!

  10. your bro said

    now see sis. you could just write shit like this everyday and i would gladly tune the fuck in. i laughed my ass off. which, by the way, i was reading this in the library so i got some fucking glares. who cares. this is the stuff i missed you writing. please sir, may i have another. love ya!

  11. Charlie Pearce said

    Heh heh heh…

  12. Charlie Pearce said

    You know what pisses me off? Rhetorical questions.

    Heh heh heh.

  13. Charlie Pearce said


  14. Greg Goss said

    “SIDE RANT: You know what pisses me off? Rhetorical questions. Like when the phone rings and I’m sitting on the couch right next to Paul and the phone is in the other room and Paul says “Who’s that calling?” And Paul doesn’t ask rhetorical questions – when he asks me a question, he expects me to like know the answer.”

    How the fuck are *WE* supposed to know where women come up with the answers? You just do it. If I’m looking for the TV remote in Vancouver and my wife has been in Toronto for a month, I can call her and ask “If you were me, where would you have put the TV remote?” and she says something like you said above and I grovel a bit and she says “Did you check on top of the fridge?”, like it would make sense to stash a control for the den’s TV off in the kitchen. So I run off and check, and guess what? There’s a TV remote on the fridge.

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