I’m In The Closet!

I’m not sure exactly when I developed this “somebody’s at the door, I’m gonna hide” habit that I’ve got. But, I’m a tellin’ ya that I’m getting pretty good at it.

The first time that I did it was when my brother from another city came a’knockin’. We had been on pretty cool terms ever since the death of my mother (when he accused me of shit that I didn’t do). All of a sudden, he’s trying to brother-up to me again and I’m just not ready. I still thought that he was a gigantic asshole. So, on the day he called me and asked me if I was going to be home, I told him, “No”. But, lo and behold, a few hours later, I hear my doorbell ringing. At this time, I was getting ready for a shower and grabbed a towel, went to a window and peeked out. There he was with his little boy at my door. The good side of me said to get dressed and answer the door. The still-pissed-off side said, “HIDE! ” And, even though, my car was in the driveway, I hid. Not just me but I grabbed my little girl and pulled her with me into the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it. This made no sense as my front door was already locked. I must have thought that he would kick the door open and come in. This is funny all by itself because he was a very overweight, out of shape guy. Shushing my daughter, I crouched with my ear to the door listening. The doorbell rang again. And again. I guess my car was a give-a-way. Finally, there was just silence and I opened the door and lightly tip-toed to the window, pulled back the curtain just a smidge, and saw him backing out of my driveway. I guess I should have felt ashamed of myself but I didn’t. I felt like a Navy seal.

Another time, I was in the kitchen cooking hamburgers when I heard the doorbell. It was summer and I had my front door open and anybody could see into my house. Once again, I peeked out a window. Crapola!!! It was a friend of my husband’s. Well, he was sorta my friend, too. My husband and I used to ride with a motorcycle gang, The Avengers, and he was one of the “brothers”.( More Avenger tales upon request. LOL) Snake, the guy at the door, is about 6 ft 4 inches and weighs all of 140 pounds. He wears layers of clothes even in hot summer months trying to cover up his thinness.His arms are covered with snake and skull tatoos Snake is funny but tends to start every sentence with, “Remember when…..?” In other words, he lives in the past. He also had a horrible habit of ending every sentence with , “Huh?”. I was not in the mood to entertain him until my husband came home (which would have been 2 hours!). I had never even been around him without some of the rest of the gang. I didn’t think he would do anything bad but I had not seen him in around 10 years or so. My hair was matted from sweat from the August heat. I had on ratty, bleached spotted shirt and shorts because I had been cleaning the basement earlier. I didn’t feel the need to impress Snake with my appearance but I knew what a big gossip that he was. I really didn’t want him to see me looking like a by-the-hour cleaning woman. When riding with the A’s, I had a reputation of being “ballsy” and frankly, rather wild.

There was nothing “ballsy” or wild about me that day unless you count the wild hairs that needed shaved on my legs.

So, I hid. First, I hid to streak across the hallway at the speed of light, becoming The Invisible Woman. For some reason (maybe fight or flight reaction), it never occurred to me that I had just ran right in front of the door where Snake was standing and the door was solid glass.

I’m not a mind reader but I figured that he thought I was going to get something/get dressed/had the poops/etc. and was going to come right back and answer the door. But, I didn’t. I got in the closet. Why? Dunno. Just seemed like a good idea at the time.

So, here I am in a very, very hot closet which is located right beside a window which is about 5 feet from where he is standing. I heard the doorbell ring again. I began to sweat. Not from hearing the doorbell, but from the hell-fire heat that I was feeling from hiding behind winter coats.

Not what? He had been standing there at least 5 minutes. My mind was racing. Should I go and pretend that I hadn’t heard the doorbell? No, I couldn’t. I’m sure that he had seen a sweaty, hairy lump of something streak by in front of the door. So, I stayed frozen in place, beads of sweat running into my eyes and down my nose. Surely, he would leave soon. I could smell the hamburgers on the stove. They were burning! Therefore, I realized that he could smell them, too. Uh oh!

Then, the unimaginable happened. He came in! He just opened the door and walked right in and begin to holler my name. So, here I am in the closet trying to chock back my need to cough from the heat and dust. (Who would have thought there closet needing dusting? Sheesh!). I hear his footsteps coming down the hall. I am about to pee my pants…..literally. I had to go to the bathroom so bad that I considered a few minutes before that I might pee on a jacket and then wash it.

Footsteps getting closer and closer. OMG! He’s in the room. I’m beginning to feel like I’m in a slasher movie. But, there is no way to remedy this without really looking like a bitch or a total idiot. What was I to do? Jump out of the closet, yell “Well, Hi!” and take the chance of scaring the shit out of him. And, how in the world could I explain being in the closet? Tell him that I was cleaning it with the door completely shut? Tell him that it was my makeshift sauna? So, I just held my breath and began to pray that I wouldn’t have to fart or make some other kind of noise………

.

FINALLY…I hear the footsteps retreating. I hear the door open and shut. WHEW!!!! Just in time. I thought I was going to pass out in there. No one would have found me for at least 2 hours. I could have died among the assortment of camo coats, coats with fur collars, and various other outerwear.

I very, very slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door. I don’t think that I have mentioned that the window right next to the closet door was wide open. I was petrified when the hinges squeaked. I stood behind the door like a stone statue for what seemed to be forever. Finally, I crouched down and crawled like a ninja the short way to the window. Inch by inch, I raised my head up to window level. I would have surely had a heart attack if he had been looking in. But, as my eyes came up level with the window ledge, I could see that no one was on my porch.

Oh yeah! Embarrassing disaster averted…..or so I thought. As I walked from the room and headed back to the kitchen to turn off the now burnt meat, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him again.

Holy cow! He was talking to my neighbor, whose yard is right across the road from my yard (from where you can see in my front door!). I saw my neighbor point at my car, shrug his shoulders, and talk to Snake. Snake is looking back at the house and making “WTF?” motions with his hands. And then….

OH NO! He decided to sit down at the edge of my yard with his back up against my fence. Once again, I go into ninja mode….. and began to tiptoe with cat feet around my house. This time, I go back into the room with the closet but have decided that I don’t care what happens…..I am not going back into that Doorway To Hell. Instead, I crouch below the window ledge, peeping out every minute or so. And,he’s still sitting and waiting.

By now, I am wondering how I’m going to explain my kitchen fire from burnt meat to the 911 operator. Finally, I realize that I have no choice but to crawl on hands and knees to the kitchen and turn off the stove. Just as I am winding up to make a NASCAR speed crawl by the front door, I hear the beautiful sound of a Harley engine starting up!!!!

He’s finally leaving! Saved in the nick of time. Thank you, Patron Saint of Motorcycle Mamas!!!!

I promise that I will never hide from a bro’ again!!!

Other people that I’ve hidden from for no good reason:

The assessor’s office.

The lawn guy

Church Lady

Exterminator

My brother

My neighbor

I started this post with the intention of writing about all these incidences. But, Snake took too much time.

Other stories available upon request.