The Babysitter: The Wrong Address

The young woman carrying a huge bag acted like anything but a baby sitter, as she rang the front doorbell of the large, white mansion, continually pounded on the heavy oak door and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Is anyone home?"

Devon, the elderly owner of the property next door, heard the ruckus, ran over and came up behind her, moments later. Startled, she jumped, almost falling off the crumbling, concrete step.

"I am sorry," he said, apologetically. "I did not mean to startle you."

"Where are these people?" the irate woman demanded to know.

"If you would like to leave your name and telephone number, I will have them call you when I hear from them."

The woman became quite indignant. "Leave my personal information with a seedy looking, old codger like you? Not likely."

"At least give me your name," Devon said, as the woman headed for the huge, iron gate. "I don't look that seedy, or that old," he thought to himself.

"I put a lot of time and effort into getting here on time!" 

With that, she was gone, leaving Devon wondering who she was, and what she wanted.

The next day, the woman was back again, at the same time and did the same thing. Nothing happened as Devon waited, but he had already made a decision not to intervene this time.

"A seedy looking, old guy like me should not bother that woman," he decided. He watched from a distance, as she went from one ground level window to another and peered in the windows. "Maybe I should notify the police?" he thought to himself, as he pulled out his smart phone. "I'll take her picture. I can e-mail it, so there is no doubt that what I am saying is fact." Devon waited and it was several moments before she stopped in front of the huge, bedroom bay window, brushed away the spider webs and peered in.

"Perfect!" he said to himself, as he quickly snapped her picture, but before he could dial 911, she had left again.

"Woman," he hollered at her over the fence, when she showed up at exactly the same time the next day. "She certainly is punctual and persistent," he thought to himself.

"You again!"

"Woman, you are engaging in an exercise of futility. These people have been in Europe for over a year, and are not likely to be back for a while."

"I am totally exasperated!" she retorted. "I am the baby sitter!"

"I don't think so," replied Devon, with a grin. "You obviously have the wrong address! These folks are elderly seniors who do not have any children or grandchildren."

"Stupid man, you must be mistaken!" she yelled at Devon, before she left in a huff. "I will get to the bottom of this!"

"This is Gargoyle Crescent. If she had been nicer, I would have told her to go down to Gargoyle Keys, by the beach, where the young families live in trailer courts."