I usually keep the door locked at all times. Even when I'm at home, and particularly when I'm home alone. But this evening, I had unlocked the door because I was expecting Steve to be home at any time and I knew he didn't have his key on him.
So here I was sitting on the couch, watching the evening news when the door opened. It startled me a bit because it was a little early for Steve. I looked at the clock and indeed, it was too early for Steve.
Some woman had just opened up my door and was walking into my house when Quincy, greeted her. The woman looked at me and said, "hello!" And then she started giggling and talking and playing with Quincy while standing in my doorway smiling at me. It seemed that I should know her.
Deeply confused, I stared at her for a few seconds, trying to process what exactly was going on. I scanned through my mental Rolodex, hoping to find her face was that of someone I knew, or someone I was expecting. She was wearing a name tag and had a bag with her. Was Molly Maids coming to give me a free bee and I didn't get the message? Steve has been telling me to get a massage, had he hired a woman to give me a massage and sent her over to surprise me? I was considering ordering a pizza for dinner but I was pretty sure I hadn't done it yet, so she couldn't be delivering any food.
Finally after a few seconds of staring at her, I stood up and said (irritated), "Can I help you??" And she just stood there, looking at me, patting my dog and smiling. And then since I was getting no response from her - I started walking towards the door to physically remove her from my home and I asked, "What is going on here? Who are you???"
And she finally said, "Oh..." and looked at me for a second then looked around my house and started laughing and said, "Oh! ha ha ha... I thought my daughter lived here!"
Then she still stood there for a few seconds laughing and looking around before she finally left with a "sorry!" and more laughter as she walked across my lawn to the townhouse next to mine. All the while waving goodbye to Quincy!
Now, her daughter lives next door to me. And granted, I do live in a townhouse complex where most of the homes look very similar, and I have had many a friends walk past my house confused, trying to remember which place was ours... BUT.... this woman and her daughter are East Indian. I am a white girl with tattoos. I would also venture to say that her daughter probably doesn't have a Boston Terrier. I've also seen the inside of the neighbors house and it is stark white - walls, floors and furniture - my home has cherry laminate floors, dark painted walls and dark brown leather couches.
DING DING DING???? Shouldn't the alarms have gone off the second she busted in through our doorway? The white girl with tattoos, the dog, the non-white decor?! What the hell, woman?! She stood in my house for a good minute or two and still didn't realize that this wasn't her daughter's house until I confronted her at the door!
I heard her and her daughter giggling about it before she went in the house next door.
I am not giggling. I am locking the door.