Why do strange things happen to me? No, I'm not saying that to be dramatic or justify some kind of "victim" mentality, I'm saying it because it's true. Strange things happen to me. Always. Usually when I'm at my happiest and most relaxed.
Proof positive: this weekend Mom and I were lounging on our front porch in the warm sunshine getting a nice healthy dose of Vitamin D when we decided we wanted to set-up a little picnic. I went inside the house to grab the usual picnic accessories: plates, utensils, drink, etc. Mom had just entered the house to help me carry everything outside when I heard someone open our porch gate. I stopped dead in my tracks, my mind racing as to who it could be. We weren't expecting any visitors.
ME: "Someone's here."
MOM: "What? No, I was just outside. No one's around."
The heavy footsteps hurrying across our porch proved her wrong. I pushed passed her, quickly putting myself between her and the unlatched screen door just as a tall young man wearing a bright orange polo shirt reached for the screen door. His hand dropped and his mouth fell open as I snagged the inside door handle and yanked it back with a decided thud. He obviously wasn't expecting to see me standing there.
ME: "Hello."
HIM: "Um..."
Anyone that knows me, knows my stare can be very intimidating. My eyes are extremely dark brown, they appear almost solid black when I'm pissed off...and I was definitely pissed off.
ME: "Can I help you?"
He licked his lips nervously and peeked over his right shoulder. There was another man (a lookout?) wearing the same exact attire pacing our street corner. The pacing told me everything I needed to know. I crossed my arms, leveled my most intimidating glare at him, and repeated my question: "CAN I HELP YOU?"





