Monkey Shines

January 27, 2009

Jane and I moved to the Garden Villas area of Houston within a year or so of each other. It’s a great neighborhood to live in. The lots are large – about an acre. The roads are lined with huge old pecan trees that arch over the middle of the streets.

The major street that borders our neighborhood is Telephone Road, which has long been infamous as a great place to buy drugs, find prostitutes and be accosted by homeless people. This being said, our neighborhood feels safe, mostly because we are bordered on three sides by the bayou, have ditches instead of sidewalks, and have no streetlights. We also have a large number of old people who watch what is going on. If you are up to no good, there are not many easy ways out.

One night, when we first moved to the ‘hood, Jane and I were settled into her living room watching “The Second Deadly Sin”. We were laughing as Frank Sinatra locked up what seemed to be 20 locks on his Manhattan apartment door. We agreed that it must be tough to live in the big city and be afraid all the time.

Just as this happened, there was a loud “BANG!” outside. We both got up, walked outside and looked around. There was a car coming down one end of the street very slowly toward us. There was another car moving very slowly from the opposite direction coming toward us.

Jane reacted immediately. She flew up the stairs and into the house yelling, “Donna! Get into the house!”

My feet turned to lead. Jane kept yelling, “Donna! Get in the HOUSE! Get in THE HOUSE!”

I wanted to move, but just couldn’t. I absolutely knew that if I ran up the stairs, someone in one of the cars would shoot me because I had seen them. I pitched myself forward, feet dragging behind me, in slow motion. The car coming from the left pulled into the driveway next door. The house was empty. The owners had moved. This was very suspicious.

I finally lurched my way up the stairs and into the house just as the same car pulled out of that driveway and headed further down the street toward us. As I peeked out the window, I could see the was other car stopped in the middle of the street.

Behind me, Jane was on the phone. I could hear her calling security. “There was a loud noise. There are cars facing off in the street… “

I watched as the car from the left passed the other car slowly, then pulled into the driveway on the other side of Jane’s house. He then backed out and headed in the opposite direction. Then, he pulled into JANE’s driveway.

My heart was in my throat. I could hear Jane giving her address. Giving her phone number. Telling the cross streets. Good Lord. We were going to be dead by the time they got here.

I kept looking out the window, focused on the driver. Something about him was familiar. Something.. was… oh my God.

It was the Domino’s Pizza delivery man. The same one who had delivered our pizzas for lunch. He was lost. The lots are big. There are no street numbers. He was just trying to figure out where to deliver his damned pizza.

I started laughing… hysterical relief-borne laughter. I was clutching my gut, tears streaming from my eyes as I made my way into the kitchen and Jane.

Jane was telling them, “It’s a white house, with green shutters. There’s a blue Taurus parked in the driveway.”

I was waving at her, trying to distract her, but she was focused on her goal. Finally, she looked at me. I mouthed the word “Domino’s.”

Jane stopped talking. Looked at me. Looked at the phone. Very softly, she said into the phone, “It could have been a car backfire.” Then, she hung up.

I have rarely laughed so hard. We were delirious. The rest of the night, we just kept saying “Domino’s” and busting out into peals of laughter.

The hood is a dangerous place, but only if you are idiots. Manhattan has nothing on us.