So this morning someone rings the doorbell. I've always been scared even when there was nothing to be scared of, but these days I've become a truly terrified quivering mess. So I look through the peephole and I find a tall man jotting something in a folder in his hand. I ask who it is and he says he's the inquiry guy from Ouda Bank. I'm immediately suspicious: We'd already had guys from several banks a month ago inquiring about my husband, as part of the car purchase process, and my husband took Ouda's offer and bought his current car. So after a yelled conversation that goes nowhere I refuse to open the door and inform him I will call my husband to ask him about this first.
Turns out it's an inquiry for a new credit card my husband wants to get, not for a car purchase. I immediately bombard him with apologies he accepts good-naturedly. He even mentions that his own family acts the same now if someone they don't know knocks because of the current unrest in Egypt. After he finishes his inquiry I'm still feeling bad about having yelled at him and I make one last attempt at apologizing. It goes like this.
"I'm really sorry but you know, not only is the situation in the country scary but we live on the first floor and every night a group of guys hang out below our balcony and throw stuff in it and smoke stuff and talk loudly and they scare the hell out of me."
Oh yes. I did say that. To his credit the inquiry guy looked gobsmacked. And a little terrified himself, like I might whip out an axe from behind my back and start hitting him with it, all the while apologizing profusely. God. How could I say what I said to a total stranger? Total stranger, which is akin to potential attacker. And I go and inform him that not only are we very good candidates for robbery or worse, but that other people are already conducting questionable business below our balcony and getting away with it. So he could come and give it a shot. Sheesh. I swear sometimes I feel I have tiny crumbs for brains.
So what do I do? Other than try to keep my enlightening information to myself. Move? Not feasible. Sleep with a knife under the pillow? Impossible: I sleep next to a five-month-old. Kill myself? Not necessary. Look at the information I share with total strangers. That'll do nicely.
Sheesh.
Turns out it's an inquiry for a new credit card my husband wants to get, not for a car purchase. I immediately bombard him with apologies he accepts good-naturedly. He even mentions that his own family acts the same now if someone they don't know knocks because of the current unrest in Egypt. After he finishes his inquiry I'm still feeling bad about having yelled at him and I make one last attempt at apologizing. It goes like this.
"I'm really sorry but you know, not only is the situation in the country scary but we live on the first floor and every night a group of guys hang out below our balcony and throw stuff in it and smoke stuff and talk loudly and they scare the hell out of me."
Oh yes. I did say that. To his credit the inquiry guy looked gobsmacked. And a little terrified himself, like I might whip out an axe from behind my back and start hitting him with it, all the while apologizing profusely. God. How could I say what I said to a total stranger? Total stranger, which is akin to potential attacker. And I go and inform him that not only are we very good candidates for robbery or worse, but that other people are already conducting questionable business below our balcony and getting away with it. So he could come and give it a shot. Sheesh. I swear sometimes I feel I have tiny crumbs for brains.
So what do I do? Other than try to keep my enlightening information to myself. Move? Not feasible. Sleep with a knife under the pillow? Impossible: I sleep next to a five-month-old. Kill myself? Not necessary. Look at the information I share with total strangers. That'll do nicely.
Sheesh.
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