Here at the Richards Manor, we don’t get a lot of foot traffic. We’re a young married couple with no kids, surrounded by retirees, 10+ miles from our nearest friends.
Despite this, however, our doorbell rings at a surprisingly regular rate. Not daily, mind, but almost certainly weekly.
It’s a game I like to call “Doorknob Roulette”
Lately, I’ve taken to making a game of things. See, I never know who is going to be at the door (except that I can guarantee it’s never a package delivery man, because they seem to be of the mind to toss our package in the garage and go… I almost never know when something has been actually delivered).
Usually I’m greeted by a solicitor of some kind (cut your heating bill!, paint your home!, get new cabinets!, need a new roof?). Once in a while it’s a neighbor who needs technical assistance (usually with their printer, or scanner, or email). On the rarest occasions, it’s a neighborhood kid asking to shovel our sidewalk or mow our lawn.
If it’s clearly a solicitor I’ll sometimes let them ring the doorbell and then leave without answering, never admitting that I’m home (after all, it’s 2 in the afternoon… who is home at that time of day?)
Today’s incident, however, is the weirdest I’ve encountered on my doorstep…
The person on the outside was a teenager, probably 14 or 15 years old. Standing a ways behind him on the sidewalk was (I suspect) his mother. He rang the doorbell at least twice before I could get upstairs to answer, and I think a third time as I was getting to the door.
When I opened the door he asked, “Does a kid named Angelo live here?”
When I said, “No, it-” he cut me off and said, “Cuz a kid named Angelo threw a rock at my little brother… cut his head open. And he said his house was over here in this area…”
I interjected again, completing my thought, “No, it’s just my wife and I… sorry.”
Then he and his mother both said, “Okay, thanks for your time!” and trotted off.
I wasn’t really sure what to do with this tiny glimpse into someone else’s life I was given so, naturally, I thought the only logical conclusion was to share it with everyone en masse.
I wonder what will happen to poor ole Angelo in the event that these two ever catch up with him. Vigilante street justice? Perhaps… If they wanted to have words with young Angelo, I wonder why his mother was in the background and not the person knocking at the door. Really, I wonder why she was even coming along at all if the boy was the one doing all the knocking… That’s the most bizarre part.
Have you ever had anything this strange at your door?