Confession: I Have A Stranger In My Cellar!

lambs pitI have a confession to make, Modern Philosophers:  I have a stranger in my cellar.

Don’t worry, though, I’m not going to use his skin to make myself a suit like Buffalo Bill planned to do in The Silence of the Lambs.

I wear togas, not suits.

Besides, the stranger in my cellar refuses to put on the lotion.

All kidding aside, though, there is a stranger in the basement bunker of The House on the Hill, and it’s making me quite anxious.  I know I have a certain level of social anxiety, but at least I always feel safe and secure here.

That feeling flies away, though, when someone outside of my approved guest list makes an appearance.

Even more so when that stranger is in the cellar making a whole lot of noise, freaking out the cats, and leaving me to pace around like I’m the one who’s been thrown into a pit!

lambs potionSo you’re probably asking yourself if Austin has finally lost it.  He’s on vacation, so it’s the perfect time for him to hold someone captive in his cellar and not raise any red flags.

Look, he’s even referring to himself in the third person in this blog post.  That is a definite sign that he’s snapped.  Perhaps all that running and the Summer heat finally melted the parts of his brain responsible for common sense and impulse control!

BrainHave no fear, Modern Philosophers.  All is well under the dome.

This blog post is actually about the guy from the heating oil company coming over to give the furnace its annual cleaning.

You can stop Googling the phone number for the FBI.  There’s no need to track down Agent Starling and have her rush off to Maine.

Love ya, Clarice!

I assure you the lambs have stopped their screaming, but I am still very uncomfortable about there being a stranger in the house!

clarice gunDo any of you share this same feeling of anxiety?  I spent the whole day lamenting the fact that I had to prepare myself for the furnace guy’s arrival.  As my appointment time drew nearer, my stomach started to get queasy.

A part of me wanted to cancel it, but common sense did prevail.  I understood that the furnace runs much more efficiently when I have it cleaned, and an efficient furnace means less money spent on expensive heating oil.

Still, though, I wished it was something that could be done without my having to be in the house.  As outgoing as I try to be, strangers still unnerve me.

I never know how to act or what to say.  I didn’t want to eat with him in the house because that seemed rude.  I was reluctant to use the restroom because I feared he’d come upstairs to ask a question and not be able to find me.   I kept worrying he’d come up out of the cellar, leave the door open, and the cats would get lost down in the pit…I mean…down in the dark, scary basement.

clarice billI don’t like changes in the norm, plus there’s the added anxiety that he’s going to announce the furnace is shot and needs to be replaced.

The whole time he’s been here, I’ve been thinking of things I’d rather be doing outside of The House on the Hill, but can’t because there’s a stranger in my cellar.

We all know that’s ridiculous, though, because I’m a homebody and would much rather just hang out here and write.  For some reason, I don’t feel like I can work on the new screenplay with Senator Martin’s daughter tinkering away in the basement.

Oh well.  It will all be over soon.

Wait!  I didn’t mean that in a “I’m going to have him for dinner” kind of way.  I’m not Hannibal Lecter.

Just pass the Chianti.  Maybe some wine will calm my nerves…

Hannibal_1Sweet dreams, Modern Philosophers!

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About Austin

Native New Yorker who's fled to the quiet life in Maine. I write movies, root for the Yankees, and shovel lots of snow.
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10 Responses to Confession: I Have A Stranger In My Cellar!

  1. Mohawk Valley Girl has a few thoughts about this (see, two can play at this third person game). At first I thought it was a critter in your basement, but then I thought the cats would take care of that. I would be surprised if the guy told you your furnace was shot while he was cleaning it. I’ve had two furnaces die since we moved into our House Without a Name (I just this minute decided to call it that). The first time it was refusing to give off heat and the second time it was in three foot of water. I didn’t drink Chianti for the longest time, because I didn’t have any fava beans and I don’t like liver (is it a Freudian slip that at first I typed “liquor”?). I finally tried it at a wine tasting and yum. Think how happy you will be that you had your furnace cleaned this winter when your nemesis Snow Miser returns. May the rest of your vacation by anxiety free.

  2. Phew! I was beginning to wonder if there was an intruder in your house. I was hiding under my sheet!

    I know what you mean about having workmen in your house. It makes me anxious too, and slightly awkward. I always make them a cup of tea, though, with biscuits… Mainly because I can’t go an hour without tea and biscuits, and like you say, it’s rude to eat in front of them and not offer them any!

    Hope you’re having a great vacation, or holiday, as ‘us’ Brits say 🙂

  3. markbialczak says:

    Hey, it’s your house, Austin. You can politely say:
    When you come back up, please don’t leave the door open. I don’t want the cats down there.

    Easy-peasy.

    • Austin says:

      I did have him go in and out via the side door which leads from the basement to the yard. However, one never knows if he is going to use the door that leads into the dining room…

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