♻️ Drifter

When I got back from the dog walk yesterday, there was a guy standing over a blue recycling bin right in front of my house, elbow-deep in cans. Jeeze.

I went to my door. Unlocked. Huh. Had I really left the house unlocked all day? With that guy right there???

From the window, I wondered. The bin — wasn’t it my neighbor’s? Why was their bin parked in front of my house. Has it really been there for two days? But no — I looked closer. My bin was missing from the side of the house. That was my bin out there!

So I went out and said, That’s my bin.

He's like, "No! Get away!" Then "Oh! Yes! Your bin! That's yours! Yes! Take it!"

“Don’t drag my bin out here. Don't go on my property.” I added, sharp.

He said, “I didn’t. It was already out here.”

“No it wasn’t. Yes you did. You can be out here, but don't go up there, bro.”

“I didn't", he insisted, "Do you have a camera? What can you prove?”

I dragged my bin back, muttering.

A few minutes later I went out again. He was across the street now, going through my neighbor’s trash. I scolded him for leaving garbage scattered everywhere. He pulled something out of a bag, raised it like a prize. A dildo. He waved it in the air and grinned.

“I found this dildo going through your garbage!” he shouted.

“Charmers! I love it!” I shot back. I threw the trash away and I went back inside.

Later, the thought hit me: my car. I ran out. Unlocked. I whispered, Dear God. My house and my car both unlocked, with that guy right there.

I went to the backyard, where I usually sit, and called my mom to tell her the story. I came back inside — front door wide open. Again. Nothing missing. Laptop in plain sight, electric guitar still there. No disturbance except the wide, inviting mouth of the door, my high-quality, valuable possessions gleaming right inside.

Did I seriously leave my front door wide open after that???

Next morning. Taking a shit. In the bathtub: chunks of my pumice stone. I didn’t remember breaking it. Maybe it fell? Except the main part was balanced up on the soap dish, where I never leave it. Someone set it there. Peculiar.

Did that guy come in here? Take a shower? Break my pumice stone? And then… leave, without stealing anything? I must be insane to wonder that!

I checked my car again. Unlocked. Again.

I stood there, staring, asking myself: Did I really do that? Did I really go back to the car, find it unlocked, marvel at my own stupidity, and then leave it unlocked AGAIN??? Or…

I went back inside. Standing in the kitchen, milk jug sweating in my hand. The cap was loose. Too loose.

...Or is he some 180-IQ drifter, coming and going as he pleases, taking showers, reading books, drinking out of my milkjug? Sleeping in the TV room? A ghost roommate who I am too habit-driven to even notice? Is he here now? Sleeping on the couch? Watching TV downstairs?