December 30, 2004

• I’ve been working on Part II, but I can’t really concentrate.  Somebody’s watching me, and his name’s Doug.  There was a knock on the door Christmas morning, and this disheveled man said he lived next door and that he’d lost his cat.  Well, I’d met the wife so we introduced ourselves and he told me about their missing cat.  He seemed quite distraught and reluctantly left.  I wondered later if he had wanted to go in the back yard and search around.  My back yard goes back quite a ways.  So later I went over and told the wife they were welcome to come over and look around.  She said if the cat were that close, she’d come home, that she could jump the fence.

  
  

  So, tonight, there is a knock on the door, and I yell, “come in.”  I thought it was my brother.  Well, it was Doug again.  But his hair is combed and he has nice clothes on.  He pulls out a beer for me, and acts like we’re long-lost friends.  There’s something about him that is familiar.  He’s one of those people who are just comfortable to be around. 

  
  

  He follows me into the kitchen, with the beers, and I get the opener out.  I am pulling a quiche out of the oven and ask if he’d like some.  He says, “sure.”  So we take the beers over and sit down.  The dogs are pretty excited and he loves dogs.  I have lots of questions about the previous owners and he has lots of questions, all of them leading me to believe he is interested.  One of the first things out of my mouth is that I have no breasts.  Boy, does that come in handy sometimes.  It didn’t just come out of nowhere, he’d asked about the column I write.  So I tell him I’m working on a book and he says, “Yeah, I see you sitting at the computer all the time.”  He must have mentioned three different times about how he looks over and sees me. 

  
  

  Okay, so we finish the beers and I get up to get the quiche when he says he’d really love a tour.  I thought it seemed forward, but I can see he’s one of those people who doesn’t worry about that.  He wants to snoop around.  I ignore it and we sit down to eat.  The downstairs is divided in half by my wonderful new dog gate.  The room I’m sitting in now, while he no doubt is watching, is open to the kitchen.  And he could see into the dining room, but he wants to see more.  So after he takes my plate to the kitchen and washes it, making himself right at home, he reaches for the dog gate saying, “Don’t I get a tour”?

  
  

  What the hell.  I say, “sure,” and take him into the living room.  He looks at the tree and says, “I can see your tree, too.”  FUCK!  What else can he see?  So now I’m getting weirded out and head back through the dining room while he heads for the stairs. 

  
  

  At that point I say, “well, there’s not all that much to see.”  He’s lingering at the foot of the steps saying, “Don’t I get to see the upstairs”? 

  
  

  Now I want him out of the house.  How did it get this far?  I’m thinking:  Is he casing the joint?  No, you don’t steal from your next-door neighbor.  Does he think I’d have sex with him?  He has no reason to believe — And at this point I’m wondering what I’ve done, sitting in this chair that would lead him to believe I’d take some stranger upstairs to my bedroom. 

  
  

  In a firm way, I say the bedrooms are a mess and walk back out here.  He follows and walks over to the French doors, looking outside.  I start picking up stuffing from the dismantled animals my two dogs destroy while I write.  He has been dismissed and knows it, but is not leaving.  He finally turns around and says, “What are you doing tonight”?  I rattle off five things like “washing my hair, paying bills,” that sort of thing.

  
  

  He says, “Well, okay,” like I give up.  I practically push him out the door and stay away from the window.  But after a while, you know, I want to work on Part II so I sit down, knowing he’s watching. 

  
  

  Euuwwwww!!!!!!!!!   Creepy.

  
  

  PS  I forgot to add that after a while I figured out it’s his mother and stepfather who live next door and he spends a lot of time there.  I got to thinking, maybe he is looking for work. 

  
  

  The window is this huge, round thing set in brick.  So curtains our out.  But I will look into the tinted glass.  Thanks, Mahet.

  • 1:20 am
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