This couple knocked on my door tonight.
They were dressed as Pilgrims. Full blown first Thanksgiving kind of garb. The guy had a clipboard, the woman just offered a smile.
I’d normally tell strangers to get the hell off my porch, but they had me intrigued.
“Did your time machine break?” I asked as a witty ice breaker. “I’m not really the Mr. Fix It type, but I could probably call you a mechanic.”
The woman’s smile vanished. Clearly, they were not going door to door in search of the best joke in the neighborhood. Had they been, their search surely would have been over.
Instead, they wanted to know what I was thankful for this year.
I countered by saying I wanted to know where they got their groovy outfits.
They repeated their question (I must admit, the way they spoke in unison freaked me out a bit).
I added to mine. I now needed to know if they rented the costumes, or had them on hand. If it was the latter, did they wear them anytime other than Thanksgiving? Were they comfortable? Were they into some sort of not so puritanical role play?
The man angrily replied that while they had only one question, I had several, so the sharing of information would not be fair.
I was impressed. I didn’t think Pilgrims were solid negotiators.
At list that’s now how the History books depict them.
I promised to answer their question if they would answer one of my choosing.
They stepped away to discuss my offer in private. While they were on the end of the porch, I kept trying to picture myself in a Pilgrims outfit, and determined that I could definitely pull off the look.
After all, I look good in black and hats.
When they returned, the woman said they had agreed to my terms.
I told them I was thankful that I was off on Friday. My reason for this being that I’ve really soured on people over the past year and a half, and an extra day off meant another day I didn’t have to leave my house and interact with my fellow humans.
I was damn thankful that I’d have four straight days home alone, with a fridge packed with Thanksgiving leftovers, and a ton of shows to watch on my DVR.
They seemed very impressed with my answer. Once the man was finished jotting down his notes on his clipboard, he told me I had earned the right to ask them one question in return.
I gave it a little thought, and then decided to go with:
When the hell are you going to get off my porch, and leave me alone?
Hopefully, they won’t be back next year.