No, no, no: some of you are attributing my wrong door proclivity to my gathering senility, but au contraire, such is not the case. I have always been this way. I was born this way, with my head in the clouds.
. . . we had been visiting in-laws, and being the ever-helpful and animal-loving person that I indeed am, I volunteered to take the dog, Licorice, for a walk . . .
In my defense, and heaven knows that I need one, my in-laws dwelt in one of those confounded subdivisions where all houses are pretty much identical. To compound the likelihood for error, they lived in a cul de sac. In point of fact, they lived in the culminating, circular part of the cul de sac, where the lots are somewhat pie-shaped with the narrow parts of the wedges abutting closely at the front so the driveways end at the street mere inches apart from one another.
So, you see, it was amazingly easy to miss the correct driveway by a paltry few inches and to proceed, head bowed in yet another daydream, up the wrong driveway, right through the wrong door, and right into the wrong house. The dog, which knew blamed-well where he was, was no help whatsoever. He gladly led or accompanied me (take your pick) and happily, with furiously-wagging tail, waited for me to bend down and remove his leash: which I did.
These following two things happened almost concurrently. I turned to hang the leash on the coat rack and was absolutely shocked to find none. The briefest instant of bewilderment was abruptly followed by a dazzling clarity — I was in the wrong house! Synchronically, the lady of the house ventured out of the kitchen asking perplexedly if she could be of some assistance.
With very hasty and profuse apologies, I hauled the dog (bad, bad dog) out of that house and over one dwelling to the appropriate domicile. Who can resist a good story, even at one's own expense? Just as I do now, I quickly recounted all, and much mirth ensued.
31 comments:
Ha! Funny now, bet it wasn't, then.
I was going to let my good friend walk into a neighbouring camper at a campground -- thought it would be funny -- but fortunately our other friends -- better friends than I -- called out through our camper window and saved her from embarrassment or possibly worse.
This was about 30 years ago; now I'd know better.
I love your self-deprecating humour. You do concentrate well, don't you!
What a great story...I'm chuckling to myself here! Bad bad dog, indeed!
So it's "Head in the Clouds" syndrome that ails you! Here's a question: were the doors the same color on all the houses?
Brings to mind "Charlie, the midnight marauder" a song we learned in grade school, or "Little boxes made out of ticky tacky"...Hilarious! Thanks for the chuckle.
Or maybe they are both the same song??
@Marcia. Don’t know now, and I likely wouldn’t have noticed then anyway.
lol. Great story! Love it!
A wonderful story. And I'm pretty sure that you are far from alone!
I love this story!
That dog was an opportunist or it would have pointed out the error.
Good story. This reminds me of the time I picked my kids up at the temporary sitter's house but the woman who answered the door was not the sitter; I was at the wrong house.
What an excellent story! I once climbed into the wrong rental car while waiting for my friend, the driver. Could I help it if there were about 100 gold Chevy Impalas in the parking lot?
When I was young I often went in the wrong houses. My girl-friends used to get angry with me.
Back in college, I lived in an apartment with a stairway on each end of the hall that went down to the laundry area. Once I descended on stairway and somehow ascended the opposing stairway and entered into the wrong apartment. The couple sitting on the couch could only look at me in surprise. I have no doubt they locked their door more often after that incident.
It sounds like the incident turned out well, nobody upset or hurt. You tell a good tale!
I turned on the coffee pot this morning and puttered around the kitchen. When it did not start brewing, I checked if I had added water. I had. I impatiently thought, "I thought I turned that on!" and hit the switch again, and continued to putter. When I noticed that it was not working again, I thought, "What the heck???!!!" and flicked the switch once again. It did not light up and I almost had a heart attack before I remembered that I had unplugged it the previous day for a crock pot.
And I grabbed two slices of bread for my morning tomato sandwich and turned to the toaster. For whatever reason, I'd popped the lever on the toaster before I put the bread in.
It's not senility.
It's not.
How awful! I would have been so embarrassed. Terrible!
I guess I must have joined your fan club after you posted this the first time, or I surely would have remembered a story this good.
And well told. Your descriptive skill is commendable. Not to mention that the home owner did not phone the police, thus demonstrating verbal skill as well.
Funny story! And a convenient dog on hand to pin the blame on.😄
That is hilarious!
Exquisite – stories that life writes :-))
Thanks and kind regards from Viola
Your transparency is very honorable. Of course it helps that it is a pleasure reading your thoughts everyday. I often make the same calculation. And and almost as often come to the conclusion that no, I was always this way! Cheers to you Aloha
It's Not!
Hah! I too am a “head in the clouds sort”. There have been countless times when I am walking around campus lost in thought and people have wondered why I do not say “Hello!” when passing buy. But most have come to realize I mean no harm…. I am just somewhere “else” at the moment. When told about it, I usually apologize and tell them I was somewhere “in outer space.”
PipeTobacco
Oh my word that sounds so much like something I would do, given the opportunity, hahahaha! Great story. All's well that ends well. Glad the homeowner didn't hit you over the head with a frying pan, hahaha xoxo
Great story!
That's hilarious! Definitely the dogs fault. He should have known!
Oh, that kind of thing sounds so familiar to me, although I'm not sure I ever walked into the wrong house. But, I did that kind of thing A LOT when I was young and actually remember thinking at the time that I was glad I wasn't old or everyone would be thinking I was losing my marbles! The poor owner must have got such a shock.Maybe it's good you were in Canada not the US when the owner might just possibly have come rushing up with a gun!
Oh my gosh! This is hilarious! Embarrassing at the time, but sure gave you a great post.
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