An Odd Conversation Late At Night

[timepiececlock]

An hour ago these two guys came to the door, around 11:40pm. My brother answered, and apparently they were looking for some woman, and kept asking for her to be brought to the door. My brother kept telling them that no "Amanda" lived here, and to go away. After about five or six minutes (a pretty long while, in Porch Conversation Time), they left. They were polite but insistent, and my brother handled it pretty well. They never threated anything, but still... it's REALLY late at night for people to drop by hunting someone. My brother, my dad, and myself had a discussion about it. My brother thought they wanted to collect information for some kind of credit debt ("He had a clipboard.") and I wondered if it was some kind of personal relationship gone sour. They seemed surprised to find out out we'd lived at this address for three years.

ShakaDad: Maybe he was a bounty hunter.
ShakaBro: Yeah, huh... maybe.
ShakaDad: You probably wouldn't have been able to turn him away, if he were.
Rashaka: Unless he was scoping us out?
ShakaDad: Nah. ...Was he a big guy?
ShakaBro: No...well, there were two of them.
Rashaka: Really? [I hadn't known that from where I was eavesdropping]
ShakaBro: Yeah. They were wearing gloves.
Rashaka: Oh, that's creepy.*
ShakaDad: **heads outside, to porch, to scan for strange vehicles on the street**
Rashaka: What kind?
ShakaBro: I don't know.
Rashaka: Fingerless?
ShakaBro: It doesn't matter.
Rashaka: Still, both with gloves. That's creepy.

Rashaka: **follows ShakaDad outside toward sidewalk**
Rashaka: Two by two, hands of blue.
ShakaDad: Heheh. *snicker*
Rashaka: *grin* You with me, there?
ShakaDad: Yes.


We didn't see any strange cars, so we shrugged and went back inside. The whole scenario was strange.


*Re: gloves. We live in Southern California and it's about 75 or 80 degrees here at night in summer. Nobody wears gloves except for villainous purposes.