Hump Day: Call before visiting or risk the frying pan!

Hump Day 2 croppedHump Day
By Brian Cormier
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Moncton Times & Transcript

Thanks to technology, we’re constantly communicating yet we’re never in the same room together. And when we are, we’re often on our smartphones talking to others who aren’t even there. Remember the good old days when you actually had to talk to the people who were in the same room with you?

Years ago, I remember our family used to go for Sunday drives and would often just drop in on relatives. It was normal. Everyone visited each other. Sometimes we called first. More often than not, it was unannounced. We just barged in.

I would strongly suggest that people who know me don’t try that today. First of all, my doors are always locked. I have no idea why. It’s just the way I’ve always done it.

When I was a kid, we only locked our doors when we went on vacation. Now, I lock my doors like I’m protecting the crown jewels of the British Empire.

I’ve gotten used to planning ahead. If I’m going to someone’s house, I’ll always call first. I prefer when people call me first to let me know they’re coming over – you know, so I can put on my face and fluff up my knickers to make myself presentable. I wouldn’t want to answer the door wearing cold cream all over my face, curlers in (what’s left of) my hair and a ratty old bathrobe with pictures of kittens on it.

After all, there’s only so much lust a person can feel all at once, and I wouldn’t want to be the cause of any sinful thoughts.

I’m pretty sure we even showed up at my grandparents’ place on P.E.I. a couple of times without calling first. “Hi, we’re here for two weeks! Hope you don’t mind!” My grandmother would come downstairs in the morning after we’d arrive there late at night to find various grandchildren strewn about sleeping. My grandmother was a very kind and gentle woman. If it were me, I would have pepper-sprayed everyone and asked questions later. “Why didn’t you call first??” I’d scream as various sobbing kids ran around crying trying to rub chemicals out of their eyes. Like I said, call next time!

frying panBack then, when someone knocked on your door or just walked in, it was usually someone you wanted to see. Today, if someone rings my ‍doorbell unannounced, it’s either a delivery person with the wrong address, someone trying to convert me to their religious beliefs or a telecommunications company sales representative trying to get me to change providers.

It’s very rare that I actually receive a spontaneous visitor out of the blue. When I answer the door, it’s usually, ‘Hi, can I interest you in a 20-minute conversation about God?’ or ‘Hi, can I interest you in saving 50 cents per month on your cable bill?’ Maybe I’d let them in, though, if I heard, ‘Hi, can I interest you in how God can save you 50 cents per month on your cable bill?’

That might work! Throw in the free pizza from the delivery guy with the wrong address and sign me up!

I usually always call someone before going over unless I know for sure that they’re home and don’t mind drop-ins.

Those are few and far between, however. And if I do drop in, I’ll call from my car before ringing the ‍doorbell to ensure they’re at home and not running around half-dressed. I’m sure we’ve all caught people at home by surprise in various states of unpreparedness. A friend of mine used to deliver for a courier company and he had some mighty interesting stories about home deliveries!

I miss those days of being relaxed enough to enjoy having people drop by unannounced. I’ve grown so regimented that having someone spontaneously visit throws me completely for a loop, but I wish it weren’t that way.

I grew up with surprise visitors at home all the time. I didn’t mind it then. It was just the way it was. We all did it. Sure, some people called ahead, but many didn’t.

The door opened and they just walked in.

If someone walked into my house these days, they’d get clobbered with a frying pan – after the pepper spray, of course. You’d think I’d been the victim of a home invasion at one point!

I miss those old days.

And truth be told, I don’t really own pepper spray, so I suppose you can drop by to say hi as long as the frying pan is soaking in the sink and I can’t reach it.

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