At the beginning of the week a slightly unhinged but nice enough builder showed up at our home very, very drunk–completely out of the blue. I forced coffee down him by the bucketload while he professed his love for me. Mortifying. But he sobered up enough for Mr. Stone to put him on a bus and send him on his way. He left his truck parked in front of ours but came and discretely collected it later.
Then this strange man who recently moved into my road just walked into our house and starting harassing me for money. He was demanding that I give him ten pounds. He was glazed-eyed and in my personal space. NOT COOL. Creepy. Thank goodness Mr. Stone was home and quickly escorted him out. I then got a lecture about keeping the front door locked and not letting weirdos in the house. As if I did it on purpose. Helpful. Not. [I am being more diligent though. I know he's right. I just didn't need the know-it-all reminder.]
Next was this random woman who approached me with Max asleep in the buggy at the fabric store. Again, in my personal space. And mind you, I’m not a space-issues kind of a girl. Quite the contrary, I am the arms-around-friends and big-on-hugs type. But this lady was off. You know that feeling. She was chatting, not in that ‘oh isn’t your baby cute’ sort of way. No, more like, if you turn your back he’s mine! sort of way. Creepy. And when I started to walk away all polite but firmly, she grabbed the buggy and stopped me and said, “Hey! I wasn’t done talking to you and your baby.” ALARM BELLS!!!
Then this afternoon I got the finger and a verbal opinion of my driving screamed at me on my way to do the school run. I didn’t change lanes, was doing the limit and can’t for the life of me come up with any inkling as to what I did to anger him so. I was like, huh?! What was that for?! And it was DEFINITELY meant for me.
And then after the school run I came home to find ‘Mr.-I-want-money’ being hauled off by the cops for goodness-knows-what with his grown daughter running after, trying to reason with them. And with the cops holding him by his armpits, feet dangling mid-air, he was hurling insults at the fragile lady who lives at the top of his building and rarely goes out [I suspect Agoraphobic] poor thing picked today of all days. She was dressed in her usual winter-tundra gear despite unseasonably warm weather. [As an aside, I saw her go out on the hottest summer day in this kit, fur-lined-boots, scarf, mittens and all. ]
Yes, the crazy people have come out!! Has anyone else experienced this?! Or is it just me?