Thursday, October 20, 2005

"Hi, I'm Andy Manning"

For once, I was actually not running late. Lunch packed, Oskar excited about daycare and Red-Headed-Stranger ready for my commute.

Doorbell rings.

And there, Mr. Infamous himself.

I knew it was him before he even said hello. Secretly, I was super-thrilled that Oskar was growling and barking and behaving like the enormous guard dog that he so brilliantly is.

"I used to live here," he began.

"Yes, I know."

"So you should be getting a letter for me. When you do, could you call me at this number?"

At this point, he even pushed his driver's license in my face, as if I needed confirmation that the owner of the poorly dyed tresses really was Mr. Fakey Business himself.

"Um ... what kind of envelope do you think it will be in?"

I was stalling, thinking of the countless pieces of mail I had already trashed. I get at least 8 things per week addressed to the guy.

"Oh, like a good-sized legal envelope."


And so he left.

Did I even consider asking him WHY after two-and-a-half years he is still using my address?

Of course not. I don't think I've ever been that close to someone-I-perceive-to-be-a-felon.

Well. Unless you count that guy I moved in with during grad school ....

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