Mr. Smith, It's 5:00 am
Okay, so I understand. I said last week's blog would be delayed. Well, it was ... delayed till today. My apologies to the three of you that read it. I will attempt to do a better job.
I must tell you of my bizzare experience the other day. I was quiety snoozing in the relative comfort of the "deluxe apartment in the sky" when a knock came at my door. I was confused as I am not in the habit of accepting visitors at 5:00 am.
I stumbled to the door in the darkness, my big toe ethusiastically reminding me where I had left a set of dumbells. When I opened the door, there stood a woman and a man that I did not know. The woman told me, "I need you to protect me from this man!" Uh, come again?
She began to explain to me how I needed to let her come in so that she could be protected from this man (I would find out later, her boyfriend) because she didn't feel safe. I should point out, that the two of throughout this ordeal argued back and forth over the details of what was going on in their lives (despite the fact that I continually reminded them that, since I didn't know them, I didn't really know what to believe).
I will have to say that the man seemed much more lucid than the woman, but he seemed just as puzzled by the whole thing as I was. Here were a few of the highlights of this 20-25 minute discussion:
- The woman kept trying to very subtly push herself into the apartment. I was forced on several occasions to ask her politely to step back out of my apartment.
- One thing they seemed to agree on .. they lived in Sulphur Springs (with the woman's husband ... yeah! I thought that was weird, too) and had apparently driven down to Greenville because the woman wanted to go here. When they stopped for gas, she went into get ice and then snuck over to my apartment for my "help"
- The woman told me six or seven times that she was "covered by the blood of Jesus" as a means of convincing me that her story was true. In other words, how could she possibly be lying if she was covered by the blood of Jesus. By the second or third time, I found myself thinking, "The blood of Jesus smells suspiciously like gin."
- There was some disagreement as to who actually owned the car they were riding in, but the guy seemed willing to sacrifice the car, if she would give him his cell phone (good trade) ... the cell phone which, of course, she initially claimed she never had only later to rescind her story (at a time when she was evidently not covered with the blood of Jesus) to say that when he wasn't looking, she threw it out the window. Apparently this happened as they were driving down here, thus proving that the man was an extremely attentive driver.
- The man claimed that she had sold all of his stuff and had taken the money (yet, he was still with her ... semper fi!)
- I offered to call the police to help resolve the situation. The woman was for it, the guy was indifferent. Unfortuately, to call the police, I would need to shut the door and lock it to go and get the phone. The woman was uncomfortable with this. She wanted to come into my apartment for safety reasons.
- The man, in apparent frustration, started going down the stairs to leave on four or five occasions, but would always come back up and begin rehashing the story.
- The woman was twice the size of the man and from my perspective, never seemed to be in danger or even afraid, despite her continued assertions that she needed to get away from this man.
- After about twenty minutes, the woman simply announced that she was going back to the convenience store to ask for help. The man then asked if I was married. When I told him no he said, nodding his head, "Now I understand ... I get it!" After considering his comments, I thought to myself, WHAAAAAAAT?"
I went to my back porch and watched the woman saunter back to the store (I use this word to indicate the obvious lack of frantic concern I would have thought she might have, given our conversation).
The whole event was puzzling indeed. Many questions flooded my mind: If she was so concerned about this guy, why didn't she tell the store clerk in the first place? If you are trying to sneak away and you use the excuse, "I'm going to get some ice." Do you actually bother to get a cup of ice? Why didn't they stop at my downstairs neighbor, Tom? (Not that I wish this on him, but why bother coming up the stairs to look for help).
A friend of mine, we'll call him Erry-tay Yson-day, speculates that these were probably people looking for drug money. I suppose I imagine they would be a little more forceful if that were the case. Fortunately, no weapons were produced during the exchange (However, with a match and and a little lung power, I believe the woman could a fashioned a rudimentary blowtorch with her 120 proof breath). I tend to classify it more toward the Ripley's Believe It or Not category. But it begs the question: How does one best handle a situation like this one? I tried my best to play the mediator for a very wacky situation, but don't feel like I offered them much help (of course, I'm not sure they were even looking for help). Is the answer to look through the peephole while announcing, "I have already dialed 9-1-1 ... now state your business!"
I don't know, I just know it was, by far, the strangest wake-up call I ever heard of ... well, except for that time I threw a live snake in the bed of a couple of youth in my first ministry ... he sighs to remembering ... good times!
That could win the Bizarro Award!
Posted by
Anonymous |
12:57 PM
BIZZARO: An imperfect duplicate of Superman created by Lex Luthor. Using a stolen strand of Superman's DNA, Luthor developed his own "Superman", a prototype for a line of super-guardians available to the general public. By dialing 555-LEXX, a person in trouble could have one of Luthor's guardians rescue fly to their aid anytime of the day or night - for a price. Unfortunately for Lex, it didn't work. The cloning process was unstable and the Superman clone mutated in form and mind into a grotesque parody of the Man of Steel dubbed a "Bizzaro" by a horrified Metropolis. Possessing bits of the original Superman's memory, Bizzaro set about imitating Superman's heroic actions with disastrous results. Trying to save an old woman from being struck by a bus, Bizarro did not quickly fly the woman to safety as Superman would have done, but punched the bus, sending it and its thirty-odd passengers crashing into the river! Several more fiascoes of this sort led Bizarro into a showdown with the real Superman. Superman won the battle and placated Bizarro by giving him complete jurisdiction of the moon. Now Bizarro patrols the moon much the way Superman patrols Metropolis. Still, Bizarro operates on his own warped logic, and he could return at any time to again make life hard on Superman. The fact that he has a crush on Lois Lane doesn't help any, either.
No ... I doubt that's what Shirley meant. Yes ... I have too much time on my hands today!
Posted by
Dave Smith |
1:53 PM
Some people, Dave, are just magnets for the strange and bizzare. The couple probably couldn't resist the pull of your "weirdness magnet", even if it meant walking behind the convenience store and up a flight of stairs to get to you at 5ish in the morning. (There ought to be some sort of electro-magnetic device you can employ that renders your magnet useless. Maybe then you wouldn't get your privacy disturbed by their morning faux paux.) They should be lucky that you don't subscribe to Mickie McMillan's way of dealing with "crazies" and stow a loaded shotgun next to your bed. :-)
Michelle
Posted by
Anonymous |
10:54 AM
Maybe I do ... just maybe I do!
Posted by
Dave Smith |
2:49 PM
very interesting. This is why Terri said something might happen to you one of these days. ask who it is first buddie we would hate to lose such a caring person to the weirdos
Posted by
Anonymous |
3:17 PM
Eric, I think my favorite part of your post was your use of the feminine "Terri" in talking about Mr. Dyson. Of course, you know me, I won't give him a hard time about it. I have to be careful as Terri's dad sometimes pops on to read this blog.
Posted by
Dave Smith |
7:04 PM
As a general rule, don't open your door, especially at 5:00AM, if you don't know your visitors. You could say loudly (with the door still locked), "Who is it?" When the story about being afraid started, you could call the police and let them sort it out. If you think they're not armed, and you think you could beat them, even if they fought dirty, then go ahead and open the door.
Posted by
Anonymous |
11:59 AM
Congratulations on the picture change. The cartoon didn't look a thing like you.
Posted by
Anonymous |
12:01 PM
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