On Thursday, I’ve been married for two months. See, I am a good husband; I remembered my anniversary—I bet my wife isn’t even aware of this, since she’s always busy with stupid science study groups (that’s an alliteration for my literary friends), which is where I’m at right now. Woo…anyway.
In those two months since we’ve moved to Arkadelphia—for those familiar with my former hometown, think Goobertown on steroids, really, really cheap steroids—we’ve received exactly two visits from the outside world: my parents and her parents. My friends and cousins have abandoned me, but who can blame them? I wouldn’t drive four hours either for an old married couple, a rundown apartment, and some critters.
However, we finally welcomed our first visitor this week. Well, we didn’t exactly welcome him, but we did have a foreign mass enter our domain. Here’s how the visit went down. I was playing Madden 09 on Wii online and my wife was doing homework on the couch. It’s about ten o’clock, I'm minding my own business, relaxing before bed (actually probably screaming at the top of my lungs—my wife says I morph when I play Madden), when I hear the doorknob rattling. Honestly, I thought the door was locked, my wife says it wasn’t, but the next thing I know I hear the door open and slam close. I paused my game, looked over at my wife—we just sat there. I could see a warped mass in a white shirt in our glass oven door.
In those two months since we’ve moved to Arkadelphia—for those familiar with my former hometown, think Goobertown on steroids, really, really cheap steroids—we’ve received exactly two visits from the outside world: my parents and her parents. My friends and cousins have abandoned me, but who can blame them? I wouldn’t drive four hours either for an old married couple, a rundown apartment, and some critters.
However, we finally welcomed our first visitor this week. Well, we didn’t exactly welcome him, but we did have a foreign mass enter our domain. Here’s how the visit went down. I was playing Madden 09 on Wii online and my wife was doing homework on the couch. It’s about ten o’clock, I'm minding my own business, relaxing before bed (actually probably screaming at the top of my lungs—my wife says I morph when I play Madden), when I hear the doorknob rattling. Honestly, I thought the door was locked, my wife says it wasn’t, but the next thing I know I hear the door open and slam close. I paused my game, looked over at my wife—we just sat there. I could see a warped mass in a white shirt in our glass oven door.
"Hello."
At this point, I’m getting visions of Jack Nicholson splintering the door with an axe, sticking his face through the fractured panel and saying, “Here’s Johnny.” (If you don’t pick up on that reference, YouTube “Here’s Johnny.”) Anyway without a knife/baseball bat/pistol/large blunt object to bludgeon the “Hello” Guy with, I just continue listening and waiting for him to make the first move. One…two…three seconds pass, and the door opens and closes, again. With the intruder safely gone, I’m not frozen to my seat anymore, so I rush to the door and watch the “Hello" Guy nonchalantly stride ten feet across the hall and enter the adjacent apartment.
OK…well, I really didn’t and still don’t know what to say. My wife suggests that maybe he was drunk (at a Christian college?!). Maybe he was being funny (or ignorant). Who knows. I can deduce the same amount of reason of the “Hello" Guy as I can going with my wife to water her beans. Yeah…
At this point, I’m getting visions of Jack Nicholson splintering the door with an axe, sticking his face through the fractured panel and saying, “Here’s Johnny.” (If you don’t pick up on that reference, YouTube “Here’s Johnny.”) Anyway without a knife/baseball bat/pistol/large blunt object to bludgeon the “Hello” Guy with, I just continue listening and waiting for him to make the first move. One…two…three seconds pass, and the door opens and closes, again. With the intruder safely gone, I’m not frozen to my seat anymore, so I rush to the door and watch the “Hello" Guy nonchalantly stride ten feet across the hall and enter the adjacent apartment.
OK…well, I really didn’t and still don’t know what to say. My wife suggests that maybe he was drunk (at a Christian college?!). Maybe he was being funny (or ignorant). Who knows. I can deduce the same amount of reason of the “Hello" Guy as I can going with my wife to water her beans. Yeah…
Comments
Glad you didn't get murdered.
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