Lunatics.

Let me paint a picture for you. With words. (I'm neither articulate or a good painter, so hold on to your seats.)

Monday night 1:00 am, I'm in bed but not asleep. Jane is in her bed and is a sleep.

A heavy pounding on a door from downstairs grabs my attention. Brody (my dog) goes nuts. Quickly getting dressed I grab Brody from Jane's room, and head downstairs.

My thoughts: something happened (dunno what) and it's the neighbors at my door.

Reality: still not sure, leaning towards crack head.

I move the curtain from the front door window and a black man, about my height with short hair and poor teeth is standing at my front door.

Allow me to clarify the previous statement. I have an enclosed porch with a screen door. This guy had bypassed the screen door and walked onto my porch and pounded on my house door, at 1:00 am on a Monday night.

We exchange some words, basically this:

me: can i help you
him: is (garbled name here) there?
me (clearly pissed): you got the wrong house bro
him: oh? you sure (garbled name here) isn't there?
me: its one in the morning, you got the wrong house! (i may have used some explatives...)
him: (incoherent)

and he leaves.
The name could have been Rob, Ryan, Wayne ... or something else I'm not really sure.

But after our exchange, and my dog doing everything short of busting through the door and using the dude as a chew toy, he left.

Got in his car and took off.

I called the cops, told them what had transpired and asked them to send a patrol car to scope out the neighborhood.

I mean what the hell!

Giving the man the benefit of the doubt, and saying he was just lost... who pounds on the front door (instead of the porch door) at 1 in the frigging morning on a Monday.

I'm assuming he was drunk or stoned, but i can't say for sure.

Let's just say I'm not pleased by the prospect of lunatics pounding on my door at 1 am.