FRIDAY THE 13TH

So today is the 13th. So today is Friday.

I have no qualms about Friday the 13th. To a Porter, it's just a day and a number; let the black cats cross my path, someone give me a ladder to walk under.

Friday the 13th is peanuts compared to The Porter Curse.

Chuckle.

Today does, however, remind me of something funny that happened this week.

Gerald has this thing about Freddie, you know Freddie...

Long knife-fingers, small acne problem, has some early signs of a receding hairline, a slightly aggressive personality and is enamored with fire.

Yeah, THAT Freddie.

Gerald had this dream a long, long time ago...

Okay, he had a nightmare but that seems so cliche'.

He had a nightmare about Freddie and now he has this thing...phobia...of all things Freddie.

Won't even watch the movies anymore.

Chuckle. Ahem.

Sometimes he even gets me a little spooked.

I don't know why or how but he also has claimed a phobia with all things Jason.

Two nights ago, after dark, Gerald and I have to make a quick run to Target probably around 9pm. We put the kids in bed, except for Anna who we leave in front of the TV.

It's literally a two minute drive.

So we were fine with leaving Anna in charge for a few and maybe even getting in a quick smooch, a squeeze and a wink before we got to our Starbucks-inclusive destination.

Hey, we have five kids and we're busy all the time! You take it when you can get it. This would be considered a date in some middle-age circles.

Okay, it WAS a date--we're middle-age and with all the weight we've gained, Gerald and I are our own circle.

On with the story...

It's pretty dark on our street and the moon was overcast. We're talking and other things as we pull out of the drive and out of the corner of my eye I see this guy standing in the shadow of our neighbor's pine trees.

I instinctively jump a little and point him out to Gerald who had also just seen him in the headlights.

Gerald was heading the front bumper in this guy's direction, ready to take out 60 ft pine trees and all to run the guy over...lucky for him, we realized he was an older man that lives in our neighborhood; he walks everynight. Gerald calmed down and drove on when he realized it wasn't Freddie or Jason.

The older guy always wears a sweatjacket w/a hood in dark colors and has this habit of moving completely off the street when a car comes his way.

He just stands there completely still with his hands down by his side and stares at the people in the car as they go by. Then he takes off on his walk again.

It freaks me out everytime.

The guy seems harmless and he's not weird--I've met him.

A word to the wise, don't ever mess w/Gerald about Freddie; he doesn't see any humor in it. You could say he freaks out somewhat and becomes a little unstable :)

Although, one of these days when I have some extra cash, I plan to buy a pair of Freddie fingers, scrape the windows and scare the Starbucks out of him.

Revenge.

There was this guy that lived in our hometown, Independence Missouri, and ordered pizzas ALL THE TIME from our store. He happened to live on Elm Street.

One time, Gerald made ME deliver to him because we were busier than normal, all the other drivers were gone on deliveries and we were closing in on the "30 minute or free" deadline. Gerald HATED missing the 30-minute mark, obviously because of the $2 down the drain but also it was some sort of pizza guy ego issue. ($2 is what it cost to make a large one-topping pizza around 10 yrs. ago)

Anyway, this particular block of Elm Street was tree-lined, dark and freaky and the delivery address was the same as THE address in the movie.

And it was a Dead End Street.

And the customer lived at the very end of the street.

I'm NOT making this up.

The drivers used to always draw straws or numbers to see who would have to deliver there. I had watched them do this many times and I'd laughed.

But it wasn't so funny when Gerald sent me out that night.

And never mind that Freddie Krueger might live there and make a personal pizza of me; it was all about the bottom line, baby. (Well, okay, and I couldn't make ten pizzas in like one minute, while answering the phones, cutting&boxing the pizzas and directing the drivers what to take and where to go all at the same time, like Gerald could, but still...)

So I went to "THE house" on Elm Street and obviously it all turned out well. The guy did say something about knowing his address was the Freddie Krueger address and looked at me kind of strange, like it was cool or something and I should ask for his autograph instead of his money.

Maybe on Halloween, Dude.

I just smiled nervously, took the cash, ran to the car, locked the doors, shivered and high-tailed it back to Domino's. I never delivered there again.

Two positive things: he tipped well.

And it turned out he was really nice. To look at.

So go eat that pizza, Gerald!

And watch your back. SCREEEECH.