So last night I was relaxing in my parlour with dinner gently simmering on the stove and the subtle sounds of elctro-euro-funk teasing my ears. I sighed a deep, relaxing sigh. After a glorious day of cruising around the rolling hills of central Victoria nothing could be better.
Then the doorbell rang. I looked at my watch for no other purpose then to confirm that a door-to-door salesman had indeed called upon me at dinner time. That’s usually how it goes.
I got up and answered the door expecting to deliver a curt ‘thanks, but why not fuck off and leave me in peace’. Instead I was greeted by a weedy looking nerdish chap with a hefty looking back pack slung over one shoulder and a plastic bag filled with takeaway food in his other hand.
“Uh, hi. Is Dan home?” he enquired.
“Sorry man, no Dan here” I replied, then pushed on “What number did Dan give you?”
“Number 36” He said.
“Uh huh” Said I “Well this is number 36, Is Dan a uni student?” I enquired.
“No man, Dan works full time” Came the response.
“Oh, my mistake, well then does Dan at least live in a share house?” I quizzed
“Yeah, that’s right” Replied the geek, desperate to get off my front porch.
“Dan isn’t a doctor is he?” I went on, the guy to my left is, you see.
“Nah” replied the increasingly nervous nerd.
“Oh, then I think you want that place there” I said, pointing to my right.
“Thanks, sorry about that” Trilled the nerd as he skipped off my front step and bolted for the house next door.
This is not the first time someone has come and knocked on my door looking for Dan, it would appear Dan doesn’t know his address. Often Dan’s guests arrive closer to midnight so I was thankful this one called at a more reasonable hour. I’m sure enough of Dan’s friends have been traumatised by having me answer the door in little more than my jocks.
I’ve spoken about Dan’s midnight visitors to friends of mine before. Their recommendation is that I tell the door-knockers that Dan is waiting for them, drag them inside, lure them into my bedroom, drop my drawers and introduce my ‘little Danny boy’. As tantalising as that sounds I can’t see it happening any time soon. Plus Dan’s friends are an all-sorts variety of seriously unattractive dufuses (or should that be dufii?).
Meanwhile I’m still waiting for a knock from the bear of my dreams offering to take me away from all this to his country estate in the rolling hills of central Victoria. Why haven’t you knocked yet?
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
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13 comments:
Perhaps you need a more effective method of greeting them at the door - maybe something along the lines of "Great! Have you got the goat's blood, and the horse brains?"
This may prove to be even more effective if asked whilst wearing a loincloth and a gorilla mask.
You need a better nickname for it... Little Danny Boy isn't exactly inspiring...
How about you rename him "Vlad the Impaler"?
I tell the door-knockers that Dan is waiting for them, drag them inside, lure them into my bedroom, drop my drawers and introduce my ‘little Danny boy’
Brilliant, I'd pay money to have that secretly recorded, just to see the look on their unsuspecting faces. Dan must be a right stoner if he can't even remember what number he lives at!
LOVE it - Shared house? I need to do some Aussie googling- - you could have door side drag available - this could be a new game - work on your outfit for the next time it happens - Add a wig - some glitter - tell then you're Dan - or BLOOD - add blood and fake scars (easy and ready to slap on made of makeup) ready for Dans next guest - or have your "little danny boy" hanging out but act liek you don't know it when you answer the door
this is fun let's play. We could call it "Dan's Next Guest Drag!~"
You duffer Mutant. You want love and money. Go for the money.
Because it's a long way from Paris?
I would just put sign on the door saying "Dan does not live here! Go next door!" but of course that would make sense, and where's the fun in that?
I have someone who hands out my phone number (even though I've never met her) instead of her own, I usually gt a a few interesting phone calls on a Monday morning if she had a good weekend... the heavy breathers...
I would pretend to be Dan the doctor and find out exactly why people are knocking for him without knowing exactly what he looks like?
Take the next caller upstairs and see how the conversation starts.... I wonder if Dan is selling xanax at cut price rates? Hmmm.... What's his address?
Leave a note for Dan next door thanking him for the free food, free drinks and free girls/guys he's been sending your way all this time.
One bear I know in Central Vic hasn't managed to come out of the closet yet so you might be waiting a while....
Dan is probably a dealer who, for obvious reasons, doesn't want....whatever...turning up at his door. Ask them if they have a phone number for him.....or tell them your a cop.....
Michael.
Stu, considering I'm generally aware of who's due to arrive at my door it shouldn't be too hard to have those on standby.
Ben, 'little Danny boy' was merely a suggestion. I haven't actually named the weaponry yet, would you like to think of a nickname for me? I can't use 'Vlad the Impaler because if we both used the same nickname that could get awkward!
Fenz, You're giving me some wild ideas... I wonder how difficult it'd be to hide a camera in my room?
Freddy, I have answered the door to Jehovah's Witnesses in a towel before which just wouldn't stay up, no matter what I tried. Needless to say they didn't convert me, nor did they leave without a show!
Andrew, Love will never buy me a Ferrari, money on the other hand... No contest really.
Trav, I'm tired of your excuses. That door his hardly going to knock on itself now is it?
Helen, I used to have a guy who would ring me all the time asking me why no one rang him. I think he was nuts. One day I asked him what he thought his number was, and he repeated mine back to me. I told him to chaeck his documentation very carefully. After some rustling of paper he profusely apologised, turns out his prefix was 0417, not the 0407 he'd been giving out, but damn it the bird who gives out your number at least sounds like she has a life!
Tom, if Dan is selling cut-price Xanax I think he should probably start by scaling back his own dosage.
Jayne, That'd piss him off, I'm sure. I'd love to. Stop making me evil with all these suggestions! As for this central Victorian bear you know... Introduce me, he may not have come out yet but that's not to say he wouldn't like to spend forever with me!
Michael, maybe next time I'll just answer the door in a police uniform and see what happens!
'It appears Dan doesn't know his address'
Too funny - I had a good laugh at this.
You're waiting for your bear of your dreams to take you away to a country estate?! That's what I'm waiting for too!! Who would have thought?! ;)
Dan must be gay, right? Why else does he have all these lads coming to his door with backpacks and such at all hours??
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