Be Safe or Be Sorry

Last week, during a burst of productivity, I was interrupted by a knock at my front door. Because our house was up for sale, I opened the door, thinking maybe someone was coming to view the house without my knowledge (which has happened before).

I opened the door to see a kid who told me that he was trying to earn money for college and earned points for communicating with people. Because I was so absorbed in my work, I didn't think twice about it initially. He asked me about important lessons I learned from college, what one piece of advice would I give him about college, blah, blah, blah.

I stood there and chatted with him for a few minutes about college and work and the like. Finally, about 4 minutes into this conversation a little voice in the back of my mind said "Hey Alana, why are you still talking to this kid?" It was about this time that he pulled out the dreaded magazine book.

He continued our conversation by stating that "Well, people are just picking out a magazine to show their support and help me earn points."

"Welllll," I responded slowly, "I thought you got points for talking to people."

This is where he started to get pushy. "Well, just pick out a magazine or book."

I then explained to this guy (whom I had just noticed was about 6'4 and pretty built) that I am a writer, so I get free books and magazines all the time. Yes, this was an exaggeration, but if any time was the appropriate time to exaggerate, this was it.

At this, he quickly turned on his heels and walked to the sidewalk, where my husband was loading some equipment onto his truck. This guy proceeded to tell my husband that I told him (the guy) to talk to my husband about buying some magazines. When my husband declined, the guy took off.

Now, by this point, I had already shut and locked the door back and gone back to work, though not as productively as before. Something was bothering me, but it took me a few minutes to put my finger on it.

I quickly talked with my husband about the situation and then he went back to work. He called me about two minutes later, giving me the make, model, and license plate number of the car the guy was driving. It seems my husband had seen the guy driving slowly through our neighborhood and watched him use several exits from the neighborhood.

This made the hairs on my arms stand up a bit (and there isn't much there, which made it even more alarming).

What on Earth was I thinking when I opened that door? What if they had been casing houses? What if he came back, knowing I worked from home because I told him, and attacked me?

Needless to say, I never heard anything about the vehicle, though I did call the cops. I definitely learned my lesson. I'm just thankful that my five minutes of stupidity didn't end up putting myself, or even worse, my kids in danger.