There must be a rule somewhere that says the moment, the very moment, you get comfortable, someone will have the audacity to disturb you. Take for instance the time that I was just sitting down to read a new book. As I was opening the book someone rapped on my door. The timing was incredible. It couldn't have happened more perfectly. Anyway, I sighed, got up, and placed my book onto the arm of the chair I had just departed.
Crossing the room, I planned on being as brusque as possible to get rid of my visitor. It was very late after all. I opened my door, and was treated to the back view of a rather tall man. "Hello?" I said.
"My name," said the man "is Vincent Torelli, do you remember that name?"
"No. Sorry. Why?"
"Because you" said the man as he turned to face me, "you are the man who killed my wife."
Well, you can imagine my surprise. It's not everyday you get accused of killing someone. And he was serious. I found that out the moment I saw his face. It was twisted by years of being seriously ticked off.
So surprised was I that I could only blurt out a startled "What?" before he charged into my apartment and knocked me to the ground. He slammed the door shut, and glared at me. I could do nothing, but stare back at him. And then he began to speak;
" For twenty years I've been looking for you. Ever since you...I've tracked you through every miserable alleyway, and every slimy gutter throughout this country. Always just one step behind you. I've hired an army of private detectives to find where you were holed up. It took me ten years just to find out that your name is Ted Harrison. And now I have you. And now..." As he rapped up his rather long narrative he reached into his coat for what I was sure was a weapon of some sort. Suddenly I realized what he had just said.
"Wait!" I said, " did you say Ted Harrison?"
Mr. Torelli paused, "Yes. Don't tell me you're not Harrison."
"But I'm not! My name's John Hargrove. Here!" I grabbed at my wallet and tossed it at him. He jerked his hand out of his coat and grabbed the wallet out of the air. "Look at my driver's license."
He flipped open my wallet, and then glared at my drivers license. He looked back and forth from me to the drivers license and back again. I sat on my floor wondering if he would actually believe me.
Finally he shut the wallet, and tossed it onto the floor next to me. He looked seriously peeved. "But I was given this address and the name Ted Harrison! Look!" Mr. Torelli said. He took a filthy little scrap of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to me.
I looked at it, and almost started laughing out loud. But I realized that laughing could possibly be a mistake. If you had seen what I saw on that piece of paper you would have laughed too though. I realized I was saved.
" This says apartment '3C '," I said, giving him back his paper. "So?"
"This is apartment 3G."
"What?!" Mr. Torelli tore out of my apartment, threw open my door, and stepped out into the hall. I finally got up from my position on the floor, and followed him out. "See? It's just a bit dirty," I said. I rubbed at the number beside my door. The "C" magically became a "G."
"Oh. Sorry about that." he said. He looked a bit embarrassed about his mistake.
"That's not the first time this has happened." I said. And that was true, why just the week before some guy wandered up and believed I was his contact, and that I was the one that was supposed to deliver his money. Or some such fool thing. "Just go two doors down that side of the hall."
"Thanks, and I really am sorry," said Mr. Torelli.
"Hey, don't worry about it!" I said.
We shook hands, and I watched as he marched off down the hall. I shut my door, and went back to my chair. Just as I started to get comfortable again, and loud popping noise went off down the hall. I considered getting up and complaining, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble.