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The Gardener

There is a little bit of a front lawn in front of my house, and I have been neglecting it for a while. Now, I don't even pretend like I have a green thumb, so I have no illusions about trying to carefully plant, water, or nurture anything that blooms. I do, however, know how to pull out weeds, so I don't mind holding myself accountable for that. In fact, it's like a mini violence spree, so it can be cathartic under the right circumstances.

Anyhow, I finally got around to yanking out some of those weeds when I had an, um, interesting experience.

Since I knew I was going to be getting dirty, I threw on some ratty clothes. I also emptied my pockets, since I figured I wasn't going to need my wallet or my house keys any time soon. So, I rolled out the green bin that's meant for anything that can be composted, and got to work.

Like I said, I'd been neglecting the weeds for a while, so there was plenty of work to do. Rather than stand up and bend back down after every handful of weeds, I simply started piles. And since it was my house and I knew the other occupants were home, I didn't think much of blocking the main path to the front door. I was actually more worried about leaving any debris in the neighbor's driveway. Since that patch of land borders the house of the neighbor who inspects dirt, I thought it prudent to not disturb her driveway.

After an hour or so, I got pretty caught up in my task. So much so, that I didn't notice the two older ladies until the last minute. They didn't really say anything, but I looked up just as they were sidestepping my pile of weeds. I was actually on the opposite end of the plants, so I wasn't physically blocking their path, but I'm fairly certain they noticed me. Undeterred and paying me no mind, they walked up to the front door. I didn't have my keys on me, so I had left the front door ajar. Taking advantage of this fact, the two ladies simply walked in to the house.

In order for the next part to make sense, I'm going to have to explain a little bit. It's actually not uncommon to have guests at our house that I don't recognize. With the daycare, there are always new children and new parents. Also, the standard operating procedure for new parents is for them to tour the house and to talk a little with my folks, so that they know what they're getting. There is also some paperwork involved, so the whole process just runs smoother when they stop by for a visit before dropping off their kids full time.

These ladies, however, were definitely older than the usual clientele. Also, if these folks were prospective clients, I assume they would have rung the doorbell. These ladies, however, had not done so; instead, they walked in like they knew the occupants (read: me and my parents). I hadn't heard anything about a daycare visit, so I just assumed it was a pair of family friends that I didn't recognize. I was a little surprised, but I figured someone would clue me in later.

That illusion was shattered when I heard one of the ladies calling out, "hello?" I don't quite know what it was about that, but it made me realize that these people did not, in fact, know anyone in this house. Maybe it was an instinctive realization that they hadn't called out a name, or maybe the particular language they chose sounded off. I can't quite pinpoint the reason, but I do know that I immediately got up to go see what the heck these strangers were doing in my house.

I walked in the front door and asked who they were looking for. It would not occur to me until later, but neither of the two ladies seemed particularly surprised by my face. Apparently, they definitely had seen me the first time around, they had just chosen to ignore me.

Regardless, they were looking for a different family entirely. When I pointed out the fact that no one by that name lived in the house in which they were currently standing, they actually debated the point with me. I remember hearing, "it looks the same, this must be it" at some point. Figuring that the odds were in my favor that I knew who lived in my house, I repeated my assertion that they were in the wrong house. After a few seconds, they walked outside in order to call the person they were looking for. Maybe they weren't completely convinced, or maybe they didn't want to start walking aimlessly, but they stood in front of my house while making that phone call.

Figuring they'd realize their mistake soon enough, I got back to work. This time, however, I made sure to put myself on the path to the front door. The lady that wasn't on the phone really didn't have anything to do, so she sort of stared at me. Not quite knowing how else to respond, I simply smiled. All in all, they were outside my house for at most five minutes. It was a strange five minutes, though. Eventually, they trudged off to the correct house, without so much as apologizing.

The whole thing was pretty bizarre, so I shrugged it off and got back to work. As I was pulling out another weed, it occurred to me: they probably thought I was the hired help. After all, I was in the front yard pulling weeds, and I was of a skin color that is not uncommon amongst day laborers. They had noticed me working, but had ignored my presence altogether, as if they didn't think it necessary to acknowledge me (side note: how many of you say hello to janitors or mail delivery people?). Lastly, they did not believe me when I told them who lived in my house; as if they thought that I did not live in that house.

It looks like you can add gardener to my list of potential disguises (I've already got car thief covered).

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