It Happened To Me: An Unwanted Houseguest Left Crumbs and Concerns
We found a naked stranger in our home, which was quickly filled with police officers and their AK-47s
Happy Saturday/Michael Stipe's birthday, and two quick things from Me/Jane: Monday is going to be extra special here, particularly for former Sassy readers, as I am running something by an original Sassy staff member and it's a story even I did not know. It's beautiful and I hope you will read it. Monday is also the last day to take advantage of this ridiculously low price for subscriptions here, so make sure to sign up and tell other people you love to sign up now.
Today I give you another incredibly unique It Happened To Me story, and an invitation to send your own to me at jane@anotherjaneprattthing.com (and become $50 richer). Now here is Marcia's, told as only she could.
By Marcia McGreevy Lewis
The smoky aroma of grilled salmon clung to our clothes as we approached our front door. We were still smiling about the laughter we’d shared at dinner on our friends’ deck overlooking an azure lake on a balmy summer night. Our mellowness left us unprepared for what we discovered when we opened the door.
A female voice was haranguing someone. “No, you didn’t hear me. I’ll say it again. You better listen because you need to hear this. I’ll say it loud and clear. Are you ready? Then here I go. OK. Move so you can listen better. Did you hear me? I said to move!”
My husband and I stopped in our tracks. My mouth fell open as I grabbed his arm. We looked at each other in disbelief.
“Can you hear me now?” the voice yelled. “Should I say it louder? Then I will. Move!”
We listened intently, trying to compute what we were hearing. My husband shook his head in disbelief as he glued his feet to the floor. Curiosity overwhelmed me, though, and I started down the hall toward the voice. I couldn’t understand where it was coming from or who was talking. Nobody seemed to be replying. My growing unease didn’t stop me from propping it open when I spied the bathroom door ajar.
My breath caught in my throat when I pushed open the door. There, lying naked in the bathtub, submerged in hot water was the woman who was screaming. Her frizzy blond hair fanned around her head like a halo of wild seaweed and black mascara streaked down her cheeks. She was slim, fair-skinned, and wide-eyed. The hot room, the misty air, and the smell I recognized as my perfume almost overpowered me. She had parked two jars of my cream on the side of the tub and smeared their contents across her legs. It looked like frosting, but she smelled like the over-perfumed ladies in church who made me gag.
I stepped back to grasp what I was witnessing. I took a deep breath to stabilize myself, and then she let out a banshee’s wail. She flailed her arms, trying to cover her slight body with hands that fluttered like frightened birds.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as my eyes darted away, trying not to stare at this exposed, young-ish woman.
I barely heard her say, “I live here.”