You can control what house you buy and the neighborhood in which you live, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll land good neighbors. You could move next door to a complete lunatic. You could have someone who is saintly, kind, and generous. It’s a roll of the dice, folks.
So when Michael told about a weird knock on his door last night – and it *was* a dark and stormy night – I had to raise my eyebrow on his behalf.
... I flicked on the outside light to see who it was, thus meaning I’d probably have to acknowledge this person. It wasn’t a familiar face so asked who it was and got some spiel about it being a project to meet everyone in the neighborhood and improve his public speaking skills.
I wouldn’t exactly define “public” as knocking on a neighbors door in the middle of a stormy evening. Maybe he was checking out the neighborhood. It would creep me out.
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