And You Are...?

My doorbell rang today, immediately followed by a pounding loud enough to break the door down. Upon opening the door I was greeted by a man of average height and average build with sandy brown hair who was wearing a brownish sort of necktie. When I said that he greeted me, what I meant was that he said “Jessica Jones?” Neither of these names belong to me, so at first I was under the impression that he was introducing himself. I glanced at his partner who stood behind with a red shirt, non-descript necktie, dark hair and a scowl, and decided that it was unlikely that their mothers had named either of them Jessica. I continued to stare at the man who had addressed me while drool puddled in the corners of my mouth.

My confusion must have been obvious because the sandy haired gentleman glanced down at his portfolio and muttered something about making sure they had the right address. He then looked me in the eye and said the thing that every woman/mother/person wants to hear from the guy who knocks on their door: “We’re detectives from (insert your town here)”.

Well. The rusty old cogs in my brain started to turn and the first thing they cranked out was, “This can’t possibly have anything to do with the time my son called 911?” Thankfully, my mouth slapped my brain in the face and called it stupid before that thought could slip out. It occurred to me that perhaps I should ask to see identification, but they had their hands where I could see them and they weren’t any where near my personal space bubble. I thought it prudent to inform the detectives that we purchased the house last February and that it was a rental property prior to that, so maybe the person they were inquiring after had lived here during that time.

Then the two of them shambled off of my front porch with a well-what-do-we-do-now look. At least I didn’t have to bust out my Kung Fu moves. When I was a little girl (and a teenage girl and a grown woman) I always wanted to be a detective, so the whole exchange had my curiosity piqued and, in a dull sort of way, it was kind of exciting! And just for the record- I don’t open my door to men I don’t recognize unless I’m home with someone who also knows Jujitsu.