I was remembering a note that I once found stuck on my front door. It started with, “Get out. You don’t belong here.”
I should step back and explain that the door the post-it note was taped to wasn’t technically my door. I was staying with a friend (and her dog), who was also my boss and out of town when the note was left. So it technically wasn’t intended for me, but I probably should have listened anyway.
That night was such a calamity of bizarre twists and weird coincidences (although more and more that was becoming the norm). To begin with, the note was put on the door during the one hour that I was out of the house the entire day. I knew I would not be able to get in touch with the person the note was intended for as she was on a plane, or so I thought.
As it turned out, the flight attendant asked her to change seats during the first leg of her trip, which required that she check her carry-on bag. And of course when she landed and went to pick up her bag before switching planes, her bag was no where to be found. She missed her connecting flight, which is why I also could not reach her girlfriend, who was on her way to pick her up at the airport.
My first thought when I had seen the note was that her girlfriend had left it for me. Of course I quickly realized that wasn’t the case as I finished reading the note. It would seem that the note was from the owner of the townhouse – the true owner, and not the person on the rental agreement. I’m not sure how that happened either, especially as the listing was through an agency and not Craig’s List.
In the end she was forced to move. And I also moved to my own place. It would take me almost a year to figure out that in a way that note was meant for me too. Part of me wishes I would have gotten the message sooner.