It started with his offer of headlamps. I raise my interested hand, he gives me a phone number, we talk, and he says he'll look around and then also uncovers all these sleeping pads and other stuff that could be useful to people who camp with hella kiddies.
I get his address. I get the car. I double park in his neighbor's driveway, just like his instructions suggest. Ring bell and wait. Meanwhile I am staring at the doors to two flats. One door open, the other one closed.
When no one comes, I holler helloooooooooo to the open door. Two women inside continue to sit, smoking, on their couch. One looks irritatedly at me and then turns away. They are apparently not the friendliest of neighbors, these flats.
I ring the bell twice more. Three minutes later, the door finally opens and this guy appears, carrying a slightly odd vibe. He gets a little agitated that I interacted with the downstairs women, and "Come in, come in"s me.
Now I gotta say, when I Freecycle, I bring stuff downstairs or throw it over the balcony, depending.
Not this fella. He tells me to follow him up, as the materials are in the back room. I walk in the entrance and he closes and triple bolts the doors behind me.
I am not pleased.
He ushers me to go in front of him up the stairs, and I reply, You go ahead, sir. But I want to make sure they don't come to tow the car, so I will just unlock this door again and leave it open for a moment.
To which he replies, I have a cat.
So I just unlock the door and leave it closed and follow him up. He talks wayyyyyyy too much - like nervous people talk. About how he is getting evicted and has to move, and where will he go? Babble babble babble. I keep my 6 million janitor-esque set of keys like brass knuckles in my hand. Notice the details in every room. Where is the kitchen. Do I see knives or open windows. What about the girls who are just below who have seen me. How loud my boots will be if I stamp hard on the ground. It is just so great to be trained to notice details like a girl in the United States. Awesome. So by this time, he gets to the room.
I stand in the hallway.
He: You can come in, ya know.
My Half Lie: No thanks. My friend is waiting for me to finish this because she lives two blocks from here and is supposed to meet me.
He is offering me all manner of helpful camping stuff, explaining shorty-story style the history of each item, but whatever he holds out, he holds out like food to a feral cat - just far enough to make them come forward. I am a just feral enough kitty, however, that I just put my hand out while staying in the hallway.
I always set an alarm on my phone for Freecycle and so my phone starts blowing up.
The other half of my lie: She is walking towards this address to meet me at the car. That must be her wondering where I am. I gotta call her back or go down - I am late. Thanks for the stuff.
And I bolt down the stairs to the outside world.
He follows me down, and when we get outside I turn to say:
I thank you for the things to help us out. That is cool. However, in the future, never bolt your door and ask a strange woman to come up to a back room. It is socially awkward and a bit scary, sir.
He looks embarrassed, but again, I never did see or get any signs of a cat.
Socially awkward? Opportunist? Answer unknown. Freecycle. Like all potential interactions between women and men in this country, it also has the potential to be called Fearcycle. Bummer.
No comments:
Post a Comment