Drop By

I’ve never understood why people in small towns just drop by. Who invited you? Why in your right mind, do you think it’s a good idea to, just see if your favorite Aunt or Uncle is at home? Would you want people to drop by your house if you were sitting in your pajamas and drinking tea before bedtime? Or worst yet, what if you were torn from the depths of a late morning sleep by the doorbell and an unapologetic smile from the person on the other side of the door who fails to notice your bedhead and laganas?

This Thanksgiving and Christmas, I was reintroduced to the personal intrusion of the drop by. Man oh man, I never really though much about people just stopping by unannounced, but the holidays can magnify rudeness like big pores on your nose. The first drop by was courtesy of my uncle at 7 o’clock in the AM. Oh yes, you read that right. 7AM. He just stops on by because, you know, most people are awake on a Saturday at 7AM. And my dad welcomes him with open arms and they have coffee and chat away the morning in the loudest voices possible so we can all share the wonderment of the ’57 Chevy repair job that they saw on Monster Garage.

The next day, my dad’s primos called at 10AM to say that they were on their way over to say hi with family visiting from Texas. They called yes, but they were already on their way with a car load of people, from Texas no less, just to say hi. Three hours, two pots of coffee, and a banana nut loaf later they left. Then the neighbor stops by to chat with my dad about his tractor. Is it working? Is the engine still freezing up? How is the disk? Who fucking cares? Leave! No one invited you over shit head! We have things to do. I had about a half a pint of nice in me and I used that up with the cousins from Texas so you are shit out of luck.

Often times the people who do the drop bys also are prone to the early morning phone call. While some consider it slightly less intrusive, I find that the piercing ring of a phone at 6am, raises my level of anger just as much as the doorbell. You don’t call people unless it is between the hours of 9am and 10pm. That is just the rule! How dare you call someone at 6am? Are you kidding me right now? And it’s not even family from different time zones who are the worst offenders. Often it is people in the same town, city, state or municipality. Do you get up at 5am and twiddle your thumbs for an hour and pace back and forth in your living room waiting for the minute hand to click click click over to the 6 and the 12 so that it’s ok to call? Because let me tell you something, it’s not ok. When you hear the groggy voice on the other end of the phone, that is when you apologize and make a mental note that the Rodriquez household doesn’t get up as early as you. Then you don’t do it again. Don’t do it again, or else I’m going to have to go to your house and rip the phone out of the wall.

My parents have also become victim of the drive thru. When people drive by your house and into the driveway to take a better look to see if you are home. They look suspicious, drive suspiciously slow, often have unidentifiable cars, and generally drive you to dive behind the sofa to hide from the proverbial doorbell ring that might come if they see you sitting in the living room in your pajamas. On the four days I was home for Thanksgiving, my parents were the victims of no less than 4 drive bys. What is wrong with you people? Do you have no manners? I am the Queen of my castle and if I could I would build a mote. Stop dropping by and do one thing for me….call between the hours of 9am and 10am and see if it would be okay if you dropped by 2 days from now to say hi and offer to bring a snack. Then maybe we can talk. Otherwise, fuck off. I’m sleeping.