Night Visitor

A knock came from the other side of the door as we prepaed to go to sleep.

I opened the door, and a fast-talking, short, fat, Russian woman was on the other side. “HelloIamyournewneighborIjustmovedinafewweeksagoandIhaveseenyouaround” she began.

A short conversation rapidly established the following

  • She had a young baby who needed prescription medicine
  • She had a restraining order against husband
  • She had a steady job as a technician
  • She believed in/had been taught about/ and loved Jesus.
  • She needed cash. $40, if at all possible. She could pay us back on Wednesday。

“Do you live in our building?” I asked.
“Notheonenextdoordownthestreet” she responded.

“Who manages your building?” I asked.
“IdontknowmygroupofRussiansfoundthisapartmentforme” she answered.

I was in a generous mood, so I agreed. “Just bring me a photo ID like a driver’s license, and show me where you live” I said, and I would write her a check. “Okayokaythankyou” said the short, fat, Russian woman. “Iwillcomerightbackwiththerentralagreement.”

She never did. I regretted not getting a picture.

2 thoughts on “Night Visitor”

  1. A bike was stolen last night from the rack, and every other bike had both tires punctured. Amanda, who cut my hair today, suggested that perhaps the fat Russian woman wanted revenge, but she really didn't like the sort of person who could fit on a bicycle…

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