A few nights ago, I had just returned from my trip (I was on a trip, y’all that didn’t know), feeling a little bit frazzled (reasons to be delineated in a post that is yet to come), and I found a suspicious looking business card stuck in my door. This was very interesting. I’ve never gotten such suspicious looking things stuck in my door before.
Basically, the business card is one of those home made business cards. You know, the ones that you can print out at home. You can tell the printer wasn’t so good because even the background color is pixelated. That’s… not so professional, I think. Also, I found out this morning that the color bleeds. There’s even text at the bottom of the card which reads, “BusinessCard Composer Trial Version.” And it was a tear-off business card. All in all… rather interesting.
I guess if it was just that, it wouldn’t have been that suspicious. But the person is on the business card is a private investigator as well as a private patrol investigator. (Long side note: By the way, whenever I think of PI’s, I think of Dick Tracy, for some reason. It’s weird, because I’m not even that familiar with Dick Tracy. And as a kid, I always wondered why he had a girl’s name for his last name. ) This person is also a retiree of the U.S. Secret Service. As a PI, a PPO, and a retiree of the Secret Service, this person had a very tacky, unprofessional looking business card. What could this mean?
In addition to that, there was a handwritten note on the back that said, “Please call asap regarding your neighbor Thanks” (note: no punctuation–of course I would notice that). That was it. This shady person whom I’ve never met and never spoken to, the possessor of dubious looking business cards, as well as bad usage of punctuation–or lack of–wanted to know about my neighbor. Which neighbor?!?! (Cue: suspenseful music)
Of course, the first neighbors I thought of were my pirate neighbors, or… should I say my non-pirate-y neighbors. Maybe they did something awful to Sammy/Sammie. I’ve also definitely been smelling questionable substances coming from outside. Maybe it was that. Infinite numbers of possibilities were popping into my head. And I do have a very “rich” imagination, you know. (I think that’s the euphemism they use for those who are slightly deranged but still participate in society. Not too sure.)
Want to know what I did? Come back Monday.