lawnboy the stalker
As you may remember, I have a lawn boy.
He’s this really nice guy who recently immigrated from Mexico and he comes every two weeks or so to mow the lawn and weedeat my godawful rock wall in the front of the house. I usually pay him once a month, making arrangements for him to come get the cash while I will be at home. As a result, he has my phone number.
So recently I paid my outstanding balance, and let him know that I wouldn’t need him to come back until February. We chatted for a while, he asked where my boyfriend was, and without thinking I mentioned that we’d broken up. he commiserated, I brushed it off, he left, and that was that.
Till I started getting approximately five or six calls a day from my apparently misguided lawn boy. No messages, just call after call after call, from 8 AM until 10 PM. I didn’t answer, and quite frankly was getting a little creeped out. What could he have to talk to me about?
Let me pause for a moment while I give you some situational info. Anyone who has been in my living room knows that I have large windows on the western and northern walls, and a hallway to my bedroom on the eastern wall.
My work desk used to be located next to the windows on the western wall. From the outside, if you stood next to these windows, your face would be right about at the bottom of the sill.
Over the years, Lawnboy has gotten used to walking by this window to see if I’m sitting there working. I can’t really express how disconcerting it is to glance to your left and see a face grinning at you from the bottom of your window. Recently, however, I moved my desk from the western window to the northwestern corner, so this is no longer a reliable way for Lawnboy to determine whether or not I’m home. My vantage point does, however, allow me to glimpse people coming along the side of the house without them seeing me.
This came in useful yesterday, when I caught a glimpse of Lawnboy coming along the side of the house. Why this would be, I had no idea. As with most people, I think, in times of stress or surprise, my first instinct is fight or flight.
In this instance I chose flight. I jumped up from my desk and ran to the hallway, intending to hide in my bedroom till the creepy Lawnboy went away. Unfortunately, the shade to the window was drawn halfway, and there was Lawnboy, witnessing my frantic flight to the bedroom.
Awkward.
So I kept running, of course. I hid in the bedroom for a moment while I considered my options. Obviously he knew I was home. Obviously I had been in a state of some agitation when he saw me running pell mell for the bedroom. I had no options, really. If I wanted to continue having my lawn mowed (keep your minds out of the gutter, please) I needed to address this situation.
So I pretended I was merely grabbing a robe to put on over my sweat suit, and headed back out to the living room. At which point I saw Lawnboy standing at the window again, this time with a sad expression on his face, I assume from the idea that I would rather flee to my bedroom rather than answer the front door.
So I motioned him to come back to the door, and tightened the belt of my robe for battle.
As it turns out, he was stopping by to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and to let me know he tried calling “a couple times”. And, by the way, to see if I would give him a chance and go out with him. This part I actually had to have him repeat since I couldn’t understand what he was asking at first, due to the accent. Awkwarder and awkwarder, especially when you consider that Band Geek was asleep in the next room.
Eck.
After politely turning Lawnboy down and telling him I was seeing someone, he wandered off and I went back to work. He hasn’t called since then, which is kind of nice. I feel bad though. Not bad enough to actually answer if he did, but kinda bad.
Does make for fun stories though.
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