Last week, for the first time in a very long time, a bloke
riffled through my underwear. He didn't even have the good grace to
buy me dinner afterwards. Okay, so the bloke in question broke into
our house and I wasn't wearing the underwear at the time; it was in
my drawer -- details.
To say our front door was slightly unhinged because of the break
in would be a huge understatement. The door had been kicked to
smithereens. All that remained was a pile of shavings on the
doormat - like freshly ground Parmesan.
It's the morning after, and I find myself not in shock but in the
midst of a deep heterosexual panic. I love the man from the door
company. I don't think it's actually him so much as the 'door porn'
he's brought for us to flick through. Pages and pages of big,
thick, solid wood covered in sexy colours named Grey Thunder,
Downpipe, or Railings. Oh, yeah baby. I sense that I've met a
kindred spirit as we start talking doors to each other. Don't get
me wrong, I'm not about to marry the Eiffel tower but I would
definitely cop a feel of a nice Victorian four-panel.
I feel a bit duplicitous. My girlfriend is upstairs on the phone
to the insurance company, meanwhile I'm downstairs flirting over
door furniture with a complete stranger. We are like two giddy
teenagers "oohing" over overpriced numerals and 'aahing' at the
sight of a brushed chrome knob. I've never met anyone who shared my
keen interest in knockers before - this is exciting.
He starts showing me the size of his spirit level - and it's a
whopper - when my girlfriend walks in on us. "Why don't you show
him yours?", she says. I try to laugh it off but she's piqued his
interest. Reluctantly, I get mine out for him. It's a lot smaller,
and a bit silly, in comparison. He tries to reassure me by admiring
its laser function. "Show him how you use it…", my girlfriend says,
clearly loving this.
"Ahem. Allow me to demonstrate." I flick on the laser and a cat
comes skidding into the room, chasing the laser dot. (My spirit
level is a glorified cat toy.) I look up to see if my new door
buddy is impressed, but he's not. This is one revelation too far
and, like a mood-Hoover, it has sucked all the frisson from the
room.
It might be time to show him the door - again.
