You tacky thing, you put them on

Nicer people would feel bad about this.
Friday night I was in the shower, trying to hose off the feeling of the airport, hoping to reach a level of wind-down that would let me sleep. I was exhausted and suffering from left over crankiness from not being allowed a bottle of water on the fucking plane. And I missed my puppet. If it wasn't for the residual happy of the trip I'd have been in a piss poor mood.
I could've sworn someone was knocking on the door.
Ignore such things and they'll go away. No one could possibly be crazy enough to knock for longer than a couple of seconds. Two-three knocks and no answer means no one's home or at least no one that wants to talk to you. I wish I was exagerating, but it was several minutes later when I walked into the living room. Looking smashing I might add in a far too large t-shirt and pajama pants, my wet hair dripping into my eyes. Y'know, the basic outfit one would wear when entertaining guests.
*Knock, knock, knockknockKNOCK*
The fuck. That is someone at the door, and my fucking porch light is burnt out. Fuck.
"Who is it?" I yelled at the door.
My bald, overweight, "Real Men Love Jesus" t-shirt wearing, boring as an afternoon at the grass growing factory neighbor, that's who.
"What's wrong?" still conversing with a door.
"Nothing, I just wanted to talk for a minute."
Oh for fuck's sake. FUCK! I do NOT need this.
"What about?" I stepped onto the porch.
"It's just, well, how have you been?"
Jesus Christ on a bike. "Fine, you?"
"Good, yeah, good...So, I was wondering, would you-well, you're a really nice and interesting girl (*girl?---GIRL!?!*)and I was wondering would you ever want to go out-- with me--somewhere?"
This is where my charm really shines through reader.
"No. I don't date."
"What do you mean, you don't date what--"
I cut him off. "No qualifiers, I don't date. I'm happier the possible other parties are happier, fewer people have nervous breakdowns. It works out for everyone involved in the long run."
"Who isn't happy? You, or the other person?"
Why didn't I just tell him I was gay? So much easier and since he's ultra-God fearing I'm sure he's read Leviticus. It would've disguste him right off the porch and from bothering me ever again. Note to self, in the future-I'm gay. No further explanation needed.
"The other person is usually having a great time. I just don't like people. They bore me."
This guy is clearly a glutton, or he couldn't come up with a good out. "That can't be true."
"No, it is. I don't like people, don't want to be forced to carry on mundane conversations (*hint!*) don't want to pretend I'm interested in something I'm not."
"So, does that mean you'd be opposed to going out to dinner sometime?" clearly this guy is too dumb to live. Oh Mr. Drive-by-Shooters of the Eastside, I have an easy target for you! If he heard a gunshot he'd probably run towards to oncoming bullet out of curiosity.
"Yes, it would. That would be a date, and I'm not interested in that." I had, by this time moved closer to the door. Leave Real Man that Loves Jesus-leave now before I unleash my real feelings-because so far I've been NICE.
"But you have friends, you do things."
"Yes, on my own terms. I don't want to be bothered with someone else's idea of what I should be or should be doing." I am the charmer, no wonder he couldn't take "For the love of all that is sensible, good and true, NO!' for an answer.
He sort of maybe got the hint at this point, I thought. The rocks along the edge of my sad little garden got the point-surely he did too.
"Maybe we could go out in a group sometime," he said.
Do you have ANY functioning brain cells in that block head of yours? NO-goddammit!-NO!
"I tend to prefer to accidently meet up with people rather than go on planned excursions. I don't want to be too tied to anyone else's itinerary." See, how nice I am? I am so sweet my teeth hurt.
He finally gave up. "Yeah, well, it took me awhile to get the nerve to come over here..." Poor you. "I came over last night during the storm, I wanted to make sure you were okay." Right-because I'm a helpless female that's afraid of rain. While you were worried about my safety during typical Southern summer weather I was walking through New York City in the middle of the night alone and lost and no harm came anywhere near me. But yeah, I can see where I might be afraid of a widdle bit of God moving his furniture. What a thoughtful gentleman you are. Save me! Big strong man!
Ass.
He left, I remembered to lock the screen door this time. Can't knock on a door you can't reach. Then I sat down on the couch-flipped the channel over to USA and laughed. Wow, could you be a worse judge of character than that guy?