I’ve been listening to a persistent knock for the last ten minutes.
I check my Arlo alert—and sure enough, there is a man in a black business suit gently knocking on the door with his rather pale first knuckle joint.
What do I do now?
If I didn’t have the camera, I wouldn’t know who was there.
I might have even opened the door.
Not now.
No way could I do that with the evidence on video.
I go down to the door, wrapped in my flu blanket.
“Go away.”
“Special delivery. I have a special delivery for John.”
“Leave it on the table.”
“I can’t do that. You have to sign for the package.”
I’m looking at the live feed.
He doesn’t have a package.
He’s lying!
Okay then, so this is the relationship we have.
“Listen, I don’t believe you have a package. What is in the package that you don’t have?”
“Um, food. Some tasty food.”
“I have you on video. You do not have a package. I will not open the door to a liar.”
I see on the video he pulls out a plain envelope.
“Seeds. I have an envelope of seeds which can be planted to grow tasty food.”
“Nice try, but I’m not going to have time to grow them if I open the door. I said before: Go. Away.”
“Come on, John! Open the door. This flu thing has gone on long enough—it’s time.”
“I said go away.”
The knocking stops briefly.
Then resumes, faster this time, punctuated with the word “Johnny.”
Apparently on Death’s off hours, he watches TV.
Another five minutes pass.
“Listen. Being irritating is not the best way to convince me to open the door. What works on television does not relate to the real world.”
The knocking stops.
I look at my phone—he’s still there.
Scrolling through his phone.
Then the knocking resumes.
“Open up. Can you produce your driver’s license and proof of insurance?”
More knuckle tapping.
I’m confused, until I remember a few YouTube videos.
“I don’t have to show you any ID. I am a free sovereign citizen. Am I being detained? Or am I free to go?”
The tapping stops.
“John, can we just talk? I’m just trying to do my job, and here you are just messing with my timetable.”
I think about this for a moment.
Decide perhaps I should take another tack.
“Okay, I see your point. I’m good with the whole timing thing. But there is something you don’t understand.”
“Okay then, what is the problem? I’ll work with you!”
“Well, if I open the door, I imagine I’ll have a second or two before I collapse…”
“Okay, maybe less, but there’s nothing I can do about that. It is what it is.”
“Okay, but my problem is… the guest bathroom is right next to the front door.
If I go down, then there’s better than a 50% chance I’ll fall into the bathroom.
Then my whole life ends with the phrase: ‘found dead in the bathroom.’
If you check my blog, I really don’t like the idea.”
“How about you go to my back patio door? I’ll be found dead in the kitchen then.”
“Umm… a little unorthodox. But sure, I can do that. I will see you in a few.”
I check the security camera for the back patio.
There he is.
Gently knocking.
I grab my keys, tighten my flu blanket around my shoulders, and head for the Jeep.
I’m thinking I need some black tea at Starbucks.
And no, I don’t feel bad about cheating death.
He was a liar from the beginning.
