A few days ago Toney was downstairs working, and heard the front door open. She assumed it was one of the boys coming in, but didn’t hear them immediately sprint up the stairs, or go into the kitchen and start opening and closing things and banging shit around like the Russians are in Hazelton. Odd, she thought. So, she went to investigate.
And as she was starting up the steps… an old lady came around the corner. “Is this the Fazio residence?” she asked, looking around bewildered and confused. Um, no.
“Am I on Lilac Lane?” she wanted to know. Again: no. “Oh, I’m sorry, I have the wrong house,” she said, and left. As she exited, the younger boy came home, and they passed each other on the sidewalk.
“I walked into the wrong house,” she told him.
“OK,” he answered, and went straight into the kitchen and started banging shit around.
Toney said she watched the woman, who she estimated to be well into her 80s, get into a white car that was parked on our driveway, and speed away.
Weird, huh? And another thing about it? Andy didn’t even bother to rise to his feet. Toney said he just laid there on his side, glanced at the old lady, and apparently deemed the situation not worthy of his involvement.
And I guess she just walks into the Fazio’s place, whoever they are? Is that the way it works over there? Yes, there are several unanswered questions. Oh well.
Have you ever had anything like this happen? Our older son has a couple of friends that have been coming around since second grade or whatever, who just stroll on in. It annoys me, mildly. But I don’t say anything. When they see me they always tense up, and go into full Eddie Haskell mode: “Oh, good evening, Mr. Kay,” they sputter. Bullshitters, all of ’em.
But what about strangers just strollin’ in? If you have anything to share, please do so in the comments.
Before Toney and I were married, and living in deep, deep sin in Atlanta, she came and woke me one Saturday morning. “Get up,” she said. “There’s somebody sleeping or maybe dead on the back porch.” What in the finger-snapping hell?? I transitioned from sleep to wide-awake so fast my central nervous system almost blinked out.
She told me she was going to take the trash out, and saw him lying out there, near our back door. I grabbed a baseball bat, and went to investigate. My heart was hammering. This was Atlanta, after all, and almost anything was possible in that insane asylum.
I opened the back door, and there he was: on his side, wearing nothing but a pair of tighty-whities. He was a white dude, probably in his mid-20s, and I nudged him awake with my foot. He jerked and said, “Huh?”
He looked around, utterly confused, and when he realized he was in his underwear, he mumbled, “What the fuck?…” I told him he needed to move along, and he apologized and got to his feet. About halfway down the stairs he found a pair of pants, and put them on. At the bottom of the stairs was a shirt, and he put that on too. Then he found some socks… By the time he got to the alley he was fully dressed.
Heh. Rough night, apparently. Probably thought he was on Lilac Lane.
I need to go to work now, but if you guys have any Stranger In The House stories to tell, please do so in the comments.
And I’ll see you again real soon.
Have a great day!
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There has been a rash of people finding college students in their living rooms and porches around where I live the past few months. I had a young guy come into my place one Saturday afternoon. I had to persuade him to turn around and leave quietly.
That happened to us a couple years ago… Drunk college age kid that lived 3 doors away busted the lock on my front door and then proceeded to sleep it off (as well as piss himself) on my couch
The guy in my place was looking to rob the place.
Apparently waking up to find someone snoozing on your front porch is a common occurrence on Charleston’s East End. I do not approve.
We dropped our drunk buddy off at the neighbors once. The houses looked pretty much identical except the neighbors didn’t have a door going into the garage from the driveway like his did. After feeling/looking for the door in between the porch and overhead garage door he figured it out, turned and flipped us off and walked next door.
I was one of those Eddie Haskel dipshits when I was in high school. I always felt obliged to walk into any of my friends’ houses as I have three knocks on the front door. I also called all their parents by their first names and joked around with them in a very inappropriate manner at times. One of my friends’ mom’s even called me Eddie Haskel, come to think of it… and I called her June.
Was the Beaver there?
Just recently, some guy opened our screen door and kept trying the knob to get into the house. He was on his cell phone and kept muttering repeatedly, “Dude, I AM home!” Problem was, he wasn’t home and it was 1:30 in the morning. I flipped on the porch light, put on my “serious” voice and yelled through the door, “Dude, you are NOT home!” He looked around, and wandered away. He must’ve been just a wee bit wasted in my estimation. But it does manage to take you from sound sleep to ‘killer-instinct’ mode in just a second!
Although nothing like that has ever happened to me, one day, I will be well into my 80’s looking for the Fazio’s on Lilac Lane. I feel its inevitability.
The only question I have to ask y’all, is why the ever loving hell are your door(s) not locked?
I’ve had people attempt to come in. I’ve had a package delivery guy try to force the screen door open, more than once. The inside door is open, screen door is locked, shouldn’t your first instinct be: Ring the door bell. Not try and force a door open? Fuckers.
I’ve escorted two of my neighbours and a few randomn door to door sales jerks out of my garage who suddenly appeared. The wrench weilding guy springing out from under a car helps put the fear into them. I’m not very friendly if you invite yourself in without so much as a peep.
That said, my highschool friend, they where a ‘just come on in’ type. I rang the bell every fucking time. I ain’t waltzing into your house unanounced, and then have to go look for you if nobody answers. Knowing my luck, it won’t be your sister coming out of the bathroom half dressed…
Amen. Door locks are to stop people you know walking in on you. Bad people are coming in regardless.
Out of habit I lock exterior doors behind me. If I’m in the basement working with the hi-fi on a bunch of Russians could bang shit around for hours and I wouldn’t notice.
I googled Lilac Lane in WV, looks like it is back in the woods – though nice enough. I wouldn’t walk into someone else’s house nor would expect that anyone would do that in mine unless asked to.
In my younger years, friends and I had an Ouzo night and got into what we thought was our designated driver’s friend car. The owner of the car showed up and we were accusing him of trying to steal our friends car. Poor guy – drove us home anyways.
A few days ago, I woke up to see a black bird flying around inside my condo. Some cultures think this means that someone in the house will soon die. I live alone, so this is probably my last Surf Report comment.
Mr. T – this made me laugh so hard – say it isn’t so. I will be watching out for you on future reports.
I have never had the pleasure. Then again, I grew up in the city and so am in the habit of locking doors.
But I *have* had the pleasure, today, of getting kicked to the curb by my employer of 15+ years. Dismissed, shitcanned, laid off, fired, let go, made redundant. Happy birthday to me.
Chill, I hate to hear that. Same thing happened to me except I had worked in corporate offices for 24 years. My job was eliminated and they wanted me to go back to school and learn to code/program and work the IT help desk. I don’t think so. Got my severance package and promptly walked into HR and asked for my notice of departure, took that piece of paper and headed to the unemployment office and signed up. In TN you can collect unemployment benefits even if you get a severance package. HR kept asking me why I wanted the notice of departure; guess they thought I was a dumb ass. Hope you can do the same where you live. I also hope you find a much better job that then one you had very soon!
I feel you pain. I got shit canned last year. Took me a long time to find another job and even though I’m now working, I’m still looking. My current job sucks but it’s a much needed paycheck and cheap medical.
Happy birthday anyway. Things will get better.
Sorry dude, that’s got to be a harsh shock. (Thankfully) it never happened to me, but I’ve been in corporations as they were “right sized” and saw colleagues have the rug pulled out from under them. Brutal stuff.
Growing up we could just walk in to my aunts house. We knocked or rang the bell everywhere else. All my friends did the same. My kids are still young but so far the ones old enough to come over knock, too.
Seriously, who just wanders in to the home of a stranger or even a friend?
Some sort of technician tried the side door when my wife was home alone. My dog went apeshit and convinced him he was at the wrong house.
The boyfriend of a coworker once walked in to the wrong house and passed out on a couch. He got lucky and wasn’t beaten or arrested.
I’d give a pass to a disoriented old lady, but I think if I found an adult man in the house it might be different. If he’s awake we’re probably going to fight. If I find him passed out I’m going to hog tie him with zip ties and work him over with a phone book and a bat. Once he’s sorry for his mistake I’ll invite the local constabulary to take him into their charge.
Seriously, if you’re in my house uninvited whatever happens to you is largely your fault.
The bat seems appropriate — I assume you mean the Willie Mays kind rather than the Bruce Wayne type — but the phone book seems excessive: gilding the lily if you will, unless you’re going to use it to look up the poor bastard’s relatives to call them and let them know you just beat the tar out of their Uncle Ed with a Louisville Slugger (or a flying mammal).
jtb
The bat and phone book are used simultaneously.
Place the book against the target and strike the book with the bat.
The book spreads the shock and prevents marks being left. Very effective, especially when placed against the head.
According to my dad that’s how the police in this area used to work suspects over, phone books and nightsticks.
As the joke goes, the bane of every teacher’s life is marking, so you have to roll the little shits in a rug before you beat them.
We live on a street with a bunch of kids that wander in and out of a half dozen houses after school and all weekend like something out of the 1950’s so we leave our door open when we’re home. Tuesday night we sat down to dinner with a neighbor and an 80 year old woman burst in yelling that “Some colored woman started following me! I thinks she’s trying to rob me!” (We’re in the south and old people say awful shit like that more than I care to admit.) Then our dog went apeshit (a black lab, ironically enough) because there was a 50-something African American lady at the back door. The dog did nothing when the old white lady burst in. Apparently my dog is as racist as that old lady. We quickly figured out that our neighbor’s mother with dementia was out for a stroll with her nurse, had a break, didn’t recognize the AA lady with her and her racism kicked in so she did whatever the 80 year old’s version of sprinting (shuffled?) into the nearest house and started yelling awful shit. I know I’m going to hell, but it made me laugh for the better part of a day.
A couple of years ago my husband and I house sat for about a month-long stretch for a friend who lives in a very white-bread tract house neighborhood (ever third house is the same model). One morning I was returning from a quick errand, pulled up into the driveway and started to unlock the front door with my key.
The door was flung open from the inside by a super agitated man. Yeah, I’ve never been so embarrassed (or sober) in my life–wrong house. Lucky for me, he knew our friend, knew that we’d been staying over and cut me a break. Apologies were flying out of my mouth like profanity. Old age doesn’t bode well for me.
Had a dude walk in with beer once. My husband and I were on the floor putting something together. The guy smiled as he stood in the doorway, until he saw us. We sat there, staring at him while he stared at us. He just said, “Uhh..I think I’m at the wrong house.” We just nodded, like dumbasses, and he left.
Had a pair of jackasses walk into my garage when I first moved into my house and admire the cab of a 69 Chevy Shortwide Pickup before they realized that I was standing there on the other side of the garage with a .45 in hand. They were discussing scrapping the truck cab and how much it would net them when one noticed me moving about in the shadows near my work bench. Needless to say, they both beat feet for the bay door and I have not seen either of them since. Good times, good times.
This starts out scary and ends up ‘funny’ (?) Back in the early 70’s I lived in a medium sized town outside of Philly. One evening my dad was napping, I was upstairs with my friend and my mom walked into the living room to see a strange man sitting in my child sized rocking chair next to our front door.
She screamed for my Dad; “John! John!” who ran downstairs still 1/2 asleep. The guy looks at my dad and says “John I’m here to kill you” and my dad said “call the police”. I called the local police – dialing the 7 digit number on the rotary phone and said quite hysterically “There’s a man in the house threatening to kill my father” and …. the dispatcher hung up on me. My mom comes in the room and calls them back redialing the 7 digits on a rotary phone and explains that a strange man walked into our house and is threatening her husband – this time the dispatcher was more inclined to listen and they sent the police.
The police show up and walk in – today there would have been a SWAT team but I digress – and they look at the strange man sitting in the house and say “Hi Michael”
Yep Apparently this guy was a little crazy and he wandered around town and would visit and threaten random people. So the police offered to drive Michael home and warned us that we should lock our doors.