Friday, November 30, 2007

Nunchuck and I

I'm afraid to be in the house alone with strange men.

Cable Guys.

Maintenance Men at the apartment complex I live in. And the like.

I don't care who you work for, you could still be crazy. I call it "the Chicago in me" that makes me think that way. Chicago was good for that. Instilling a healthy fear and a thorough knowledge of "stranger danger" in all its inhabitants. Especially if you live in a not so safe part of town.

So it was only natural that I called for back-up when the internet hooker-upper guy was supposed to come to my apartment this evening to connect my computer to the internets. My back-up?
None other than Elizabeth. Otherwise known as "Nunchuck".

I figured that if he tried something funny, I could stab him ('cause that's what we do to bad strangers in Chi-town) with a kitchen knife (the really good one that I bought that one time I needed to carve that turkey) and ol' Nunchuck could, well, nunchuck him, and all would be safe in my world.

Nunchuck was sitting on the couch looking all innocent when he arrived, knitting a sweater, nunchucks at the ready. Ok, they were really knitting needles.

But we didn't need to use any of our butt kicking paraphernalia because he was nice. And not crazy. And cute as a Brad Pitt/Tom Cruise hybrid.

The only regret Nunchuck had was that we didn't find out if he was single so that we could hook him up with one of our single friends.

Maybe we'll get to kick some butt next time, Nunchuck. My toilet's broken.