Sunday

Betrayed by my doorbell...


I would never have suspected that a technical malfunction would put me in a rather awkward situation in my neighborhood.

I live in a town home community. Most of the residents are retired, Caucasian, and married. So, being young, African American, and single, I kind of stand out. I’ve always thought that my neighbors were intrigued to have a young African American resident. However, I secretly wondered if they were a little uncomfortable about the single part.

I don’t live a wild life by any means. However, I do have a good time. I go out with my friends. I come home a little tipsy sometimes. I love Internet shopping. And, I date.

Although I have nothing to be ashamed of, I was always comforted by the thought that my shopping and dating were done in the privacy of my home. It turns out, I was very wrong about that. You see, my doorbell has been betraying me…

Unbeknown to me, wireless doorbells are less faithful than Eliot Spitzer! My wireless doorbell has been sending some sort of signal to my neighbors’ doorbell. And every time my doorbell has been ringing, their door bell has been ringing.

I found this out as I was getting a petition signed for my friend who’s running for office. So much for being politically active!

When I arrived at my neighbors, the Kleins, home they were excited to tell me that know when I receive packages. They also told me that they know what time that my visitors come calling. In a word, the Kleins are all in my business.
I was taken completely off guard. I began to blush and sweat. I had no idea that wireless door bells could intercept signals!

I felt like I was wearing a letter like Hester Prinn, advertising my transgressions to the entire neighborhood. Even though I can buy as much as I can afford on the internet, and I can have guests whenever I wish in my own house, I felt self-conscious when the Kleins confronted me with their “information”. Hey, I was raised Baptist, it doesn’t take much to take me on a guilt trip.

Fortunately, I remembered that I am not a child and the Kleins are not my parents. So, I did what any self respecting single woman would do, I completely avoided the implied questions about my habits. And like a good neighbor, I told the Kleins that we needed to fix the problem immediately. Even though I have nothing to be ashamed of, I don’t need my business on blast!
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