Fright Night Redux

So we come home from the Chinese buffet tonight, and we've buttoned up our little house in the 'hood for the evening when the front door bell rings. Me, I'm upstairs washing the sugar off my face (that food's gonna kill me, but oh, it's so good), and yet some instinct gives me the willies enough that I turn off the faucet and come downstairs. I meet my mother on the landing just as my sister cautiously opens the front door and asks who's there.

Two guys are there, one black, one white, both inebriated and looking for someone named Michelle. "There's no Michelle here," my sister says and closes the door. Apparently, though, that's not the right answer for these two, so they spend the next 15 minutes alternately pounding on the (locked) screen door, the side door, and honking their horn in our driveway, all the while yelling for Michelle.

Naturally, we called the cops. Naturally, the cops finally arrived long after the guys were gone. Like my sister said, it's a good thing we weren't being murdered.

I keep trying to get my house off the freaks and geeks parade route, but so far, it ain't working.

I think I'll have a little talk with Mr. Glossup...