The doorbell rang. I had my bowl of ice cream in one hand and I used my other one to turn the knob. Usually I ignored the doorbell. I'd heard enough stories about people getting robbed or worse that way. But I had just gotten off the phone with my neighbor, and I was expecting her to drop by any minute to deliver the popcorn I had ordered from their son, the Boy Scout. However, I was surprised when it was not my popcorn dealer standing there when I opened the door.
"Oh, hi, Fred," I smiled at my mailman.
He adjusted the square, thick, black-rimmed glasses on his face and grinned back at me. Fred and I had always been friendly to each other. He was probably a good 10 years older than me, middle-aged, and a little dumpy. He fit the description of a "nerd" pretty much perfectly. He most certainly had more hair on his back than what was left on his head. What he did have on his head was dark, very short, and it wrapped around his skull like a sideways horseshoe from one temple to the other. The tip-top of his head was completely bald and sometimes, especially on summer days, was even shiny.
"Hey, Angela," he said. "Do you mind if I come in and use your bathroom?"
I grinned. "Not at all. In fact, you can keep me company for a few minutes. Writing computer code all day long is making me a little crazy," I told him.
"Working from home again today?" he asked, making a point to look me up and down as he stepped inside my apartment. He was maybe only a couple inches taller than me, about my size, but with a small, cute, potbelly. He was wearing a light blue cotton shirt with a collar, and all three buttons at his neck were sealed up tight.
"Yeah," I said. I was dressed in my pajamas still, my hair a mess and gathered up in a haphazard ponytail. "I don't have anywhere to be today, so, I figure, why dress up?" I took a bite of ice cream and looked at him. "Would you like some ice cream? Sit for a bit?" I offered.
"No, I'll just use your bathroom if you don't mind and then be on my way," he smiled.
"Ok. Suit yourself," I said.
He had stopped by to use the bathroom before, so he knew where it was. He disappeared down the hallway and I returned to the dining room table and to my laptop computer. I was lost in computer programming languages when he returned a minute later.
"Oh, hey," he said, capturing my attention. "I forgot to give you something…it's the real reason why I stopped by."
I watched him as he opened the front door and reached outside onto my front porch. He grabbed a small box that he had left on my welcome mat when he had come inside. He came back in and held the box out to me.
"This came for you, I think, but the box got damaged in shipment somehow," he said.
"Oh," I said offhandedly. "Let me see it."
The box was mangled and practically hanging open. I got packages regularly from my job, and I wasn't at all concerned until it slowly dawned on me what was inside this particular box. My heart started pounding and my pulse ka-thunked in my ears when he tipped the box on its side and out slid the contents onto my table.
I looked up at him, horrified. His eyes were expressionless as we both again looked at and mulled over the name of the object that had fallen there. The label touted it as: The Beginner's Anal Stimulator 3000. It was thin, pink, and sealed in that stiff see-through plastic that just about takes a box cutter to open. The picture on the front was of a blonde bombshell-type model. She was completely naked and blissed-out holding her Stimulator between her butt cheeks. There was a blue circle printed on the box; on the bubble in big black print it said: "Now Ribbed for Extra Pleasure!"
I gulped audibly.
"You ordered this?" he asked. "I think it's for you, but I could only see a partial address on the box."
"Um…" I said. I was starting to sweat. "No. I mean…well, yes, I ordered it, but it's not for me, really…" I couldn't think of anything else to say. I have always been pretty easy to read and was likewise a terrible liar.
"You ordered it, but it's not for you?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.
"Um…yes?" I answered, but it came out more like a question than a statement.
He smiled at me in a conspiratorial way. "I think we need to try this out."
I was taken aback, more shocked than I had ever been at any suggestion in my life. His brown eyes stared into mine. I was terribly embarrassed just by having the toy lying there on my dining room table, but his suggestion was even more ludicrous. And the most bizarre realization for me was that as uncomfortable as I was, he seemed cool, confident, as if he suggested this sort of thing every day.
"I think you need to leave
now
," I said, sliding out of the dining room chair I was sitting in. I was headed to the door to escort him outside. Then, I promised myself, I would never, never,
ever
answer my doorbell
ever
again. But as I stood up, he rounded the table with speed I didn't know he had, and he pushed me up against the wall, his palms flat on the wall on either side of my shoulders, pinning me there.