In college, I would go home every other weekend to work at the job I had since high school. I would drive directly from campus after my last class on Friday to my job (about an hour) and, after my shift was done, I’d go back to my parent’s house which was out in the middle of nowhere.
My parents weren’t yet home when I got back from work (they often spend their Friday and Saturday evenings drinking like they were the ones in college), so the house was dark and, since it was mid fall, so was the yard – save for the yard light. I pulled into my normal parking spot, got out of the car and then turned to open the back door of my car and get my backpack out of the back seat.
That’s when I noticed that the bathroom light was on.
Was that light on when I pulled up? It must have been, right?
As I was contemplating the light and reaching for my backpack, there was suddenly a very angry looking old woman standing in the window staring at me. We’re not talking resting bitch face here either, she was pissed off at me and I knew it.
We stood there staring at each other for a good ten seconds when my parent’s pulled into the driveway and distracted me from my stare down with the woman in the bathroom. By the time I turned back, the light was still on, but the woman was gone.