Dues and Don'ts

[Lucid (DELETED 5542)]

Fridays were like pie. To be enjoyed and shared with loved ones. Or, in Daniel's case, to be cut into segments and dolled out begrudgingly. Most of the Friday Pie was consumed by his job as a limo driver. He'd take people to their high school proms, or to destination dates, or bachelorette parties, or weddings and honeymoons. It paid well, and he got good tips, but putting up with entitled people was not how he liked to spend his Friday. Somebody's “big day” was his normal routine. Prom? Condom wrappers in the back he'd have to clean up. Somebody taking his girlfriend to their date in a limo? Cue bad tipper trying to prove something. Bachelorette party? Alcohol all over the backseat if he was lucky. More likely, alcohol and vomit. Wedding? Lah dee dah. Honeymoon? More like long waits at the airport. Limo driving had its perks, but not on Friday.

That Friday, all Daniel wanted to do was go home and kick his feet up, watch TV, enjoy a beer or three. When he finally pulled into the gated community, he could feel his shoulders relaxing. He drove past the little pond. And some joggers. Kids on bikes. A guy walking his dog. Houses that all looked the same. That one house that didn't. And finally, his own place. It was a one bedroom one bathroom setup with a kitchen he had to duck to cook in-- he was fairly tall. Daniel microwaved himself a burrito and cracked open a beer. No sooner had he settled his weary bones in the recliner than the doorbell rang. With a sigh he tossed his food to the side and went to answer the door. He instantly regretted it.

The cheery woman was holding a clipboard. “Hi! Are you the king of the castle?” she asked, game face on. Daniel didn't even know how to respond, as his house was not really a castle and if he was a king he wouldn't have gotten up to answer his own door while trying to enjoy a microwave burrio. Daniel must have been staring for a while, because the saleslady got tired of waiting and continued with her spiel.

“Does your carpet ever get a lot of stains?” she asked.

Daniel moved aside so she could see in the door a little. “It's wood flooring,” he muttered, low on patience.

This did not sway the solicitor. “Does your wife have trouble getting stains out of laundry?”

“I'm not married.”

The saleslady briefly looked crestfallen and Daniel thought she'd taken the hint, when she pulled a toothbrush and a bottle of puke green liquid out of her bag. She squeezed past him before he could say anything and started demonstrating how clean the cleaner could make his floor.

Did that normally work? Did people tend to just throw money at her so she would leave? Daniel was sorely tempted. Instead he decided to make this stolen time at least entertaining. “Why, are you offering?”

The saleslady froze, toothbrush resting against his poor innocent floor. She laughed nervously and kept scrubbing until Daniel added “I mean, you'd have to do more than just laundry and scrubbing the floors.” That made the woman stand up and back toward the door while he leered at her like a creep.

Good.

Daniel sat down. The burrito was cold, but he scarfed it down anyway. Doorbell rang again. He opened the door and stared down (he was rather tall) at the elderly gentleman who was standing there. He frowned at the man's clipboard. “I'm not interested in buying anything,” he said and started to close the door.

“Actually I am a concerned neighbor?” the balding man explained. “I'm passing around this petition so the Homeowner's Association will finally do something about that tacky red house next to mine.”

Daniel held the door open. The house that didn't look like the others. “Yeah?” he said.

“Something has to be done about it? That woman living there needs to repaint, it's attrocious.”

Daniel scratched the back of his head. “Actually her husband got murdered, she started painting the house red after that. Made her crazy. She can't help it.” He thought that the petition man would go away and leave him in peace to enjoy what little Friday Time he had left. “It was in the news, I don't know if you saw. You know what they say, people grieve differently. Well, goodnight.”

Daniel closed the door in the stammering neighbor's face. He sighed. He walked to his chair. He sat down. He stared at the television.

DING DONG

“Christ!” he stalked to the door and opened it with a little more force than was necessary. Being quite tall and in good shape for a man in his forties, he didn't have to try very hard to intimidate the woman on his doorstep. She jumped, and he sighed again and tried not to look so severe. “Yes?”

“Was that man bothering you?” she asked. Daniel searched her for a clipboard, then shrugged.

“I will talk to him about it. I'm Martha, by the way. Head of the Homeowner's Association?”

“Yeah?” Daniel said passively. In his head he was still sitting down and relaxing. The chair was beckoning his butt. Yesterday he'd gone to the gym and now everything hurt. Why wouldn't they let him relax? What did these people want from him?

“...sad about her, I really am. It's hard to lose your spouse. And that darker shade of red is perfectly legal, don't know why some people have to act like we owe them something when they're not even on the committee...”

Daniel shrugged. “He pays his dues, I guess he wants to be heard.”

The woman looked sad. “Oh, so you heard, then?”

“About what?”

“The woman in the red house hasn't paid her dues. We'll have to fine her, she could lose her home if she doesn't pay them, and-” She shut up immediately after Daniel pulled a wad of tips out of his pocket and started counting. He gave her the cash. “There,” he muttered impatiently. To his alarm, the woman's face lit up.

“Oh thank you! What a good samaratin! What a kind hearted person you are! Wait until I tell everyone.”

Daniel grimaced. “No... don't...” He hadn't been thinking. He just wanted her to go away, not to do a good deed. He wanted to be able to have a quiet Friday night at home. After the smiling woman left, Daniel almost stayed by the door. He was convinced that someone was going to ring the moment he sat down again. The paranoia only lasted for a minute, then he shook his head and went back to his chair.