So I was going about my routine and on my way to the shower when some random person rang the doorbell.
I asked, ‘who is it?’ once.
No answer.
I asked ‘who is it?’ again.
Mumble.
Now I was having a very cliché moment where my face was covered with some exotic black mud that was creatively packaged to make me feel like I would come out of the shower looking like a photoshopped image of well…me.
But this presented the impossible situation of me either opening the door looking like a demon from the sewers or pretending that the door never rang.
I chose option number three.
I ran to the door, said ‘one minute’. and ran to the sink trying, in vain, to get the darned exotic paste off of my face. Just like the label promised, the mask proved impossible to remove at top speed. It sticks like glue is what they should have written.
So, I spent the next 2 minutes huffing and puffing and managing to scrape out most of the mask while the person at the door refused to take his or her finger off the door bell.
I screamed in sheer frustration and said, ‘I’m coming damn it. Stop jamming the bell!’. Let’s just say it was loud enough for anyone in the one-kilometer radius of the bathroom sink.
So what, I thought to myself? I was trying to help this person but he or she refused to give me time to make myself resemble a human!
Finally, I opened the door and said, ‘what’ with an intensity that was a little more than I intended. The poor guy in front of me cowered and froze.
I cleared my throat and asked what was the problem in my nicer voice, the one that said that it better be the end of the world for you to bother me.
The guy gulped once and took a step back, meanwhile stammering out the reason why he had bothered me in my vanity quest.
Apparently, I needed to send my maid to their house when she came in.
I tried to smile and managed somewhat of a confused version of a smile. I apologized by saying I was taking a shower but he seemed to have figured that out by now (by the way he was rapidly nodding and saying sorry).
But at this point the damage was done.
He was, is a weird manner, transfixed, freaked out, confused and trying to get a message across all at once.
I asked, ‘is there anything else?’ when he just stood there with his eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost (I have a feeling he didn’t expect me to open the door). By now my skin was burning because of the unnecessary force I exerted on it. Poor skin. It was supposed to come out looking amazing and instead it was feeling raw like a bad case of road burn.
I looked at him questioningly.
He repeated the message yet again.
Message hit home the first time dude, my mind screamed.
I knew I needed to say goodbye.
And I did.
I closed the door and he left.
I believe I won’t be seeing him around much.
But I will send my maid over.
Stop Waiting For Summer 