In a case of life imitating art, there was a creepy guy in my yard yesterday evening. I had opened the front and back doors to let in some fall air and was working when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I look up, there’s a guy in my front yard.
Here’s the situation: the porch light is on, the driveway is devoid of cars, and the doors are wide open.
The guy appears to be trying to look through the front door from the yard. Only, all the lights in the house are off except for the TV because I have a migraine. I’m wearing sunglasses in the darkened house to look at my computer screen. I do this more often than people think.
He stands there for a few minutes, not seconds, but actual minutes, before he meanders back to his car. My curiosity is piqued by this behavior. I check out the bedroom window and he’s hanging out by his van, in my side yard. Not one to spook easily, I go back into the living room and confront him out the front door.
He says he speaks no English, but he seems to understand what I’m saying. He also tells me he is selling tamales out of his van (it’s a minivan, not a food van). Most of it was in Spanish, but I understand food words and money words in Spanish. However, it bugs me that he seems to understand me when I say I don’t like tamales. It’s one of the few Mexican foods I don’t like. I’m certainly not buying them out of the back of someone’s minivan.
It was just odd. It was one of the odder experiences I’ve had as of late.