"Here's a tent. There's a park."
I invented a new food: Yogurt and pop rocks rocks!
A week ago, a man appeared at my upstairs door. He had come in the unlocked downstairs door. I do not recognize him. "You walked into my apartment without knocking. Please go." I am thinking I really should keep the downstairs door locked.
The tall, dark man stands his ground.
"Is this the apartment? Where do I find the apartment for rent?"
"I don't know. You are in the wrong place. You are in my house, and I am asking you to leave." I notice I do-not-use use contractions when I am speaking firmly to ward off weird strangers.
"But the apartment. This the apartment?"
"Leave. Now. Or I will call the police. Leave."
He keeps talking in my living room, a big, anxious man. I dial 911. He finally turns to go. At the bottom of the stairs, he spills his bag. Jason thinks he is stalling. I tell the 911 dispatcher, "It's OK, I am calling about a strange man who walked into my apartment, but he's leaving now." As I speak, Isee Jason shoving the guy's things into his satchel. Jason almost shoves my little tent into the stranger's satchel. Finally, the stranger is gone.
911 lets me off the hook, and no officer shows up to investigate.
But I keep thinking, if he was looking for a place to stay,
I could just stock cheap pup tents and say,
"Here's a tent, and there... is a park."