Fence Jerk


I rang the doorbell with a computer printer in my arms. I stood there for a bit, trying to listen for any commotion coming from the other side of the door. None. I knocked and waited a moment before heading to his backyard. A tall white fence, standing about six and a half, maybe seven feet tall. I set the parcel down, reached over top, trying to feel for a latch. When I couldn’t find it I scaled up the fence a foot, blindly swinging for that latch. Another foot higher, another wild search. Success! The god damn thing was half way down the other side. What kind of design is that? White paint flakes on my jacket, I turned around to pick up the parcel and was surprised to find, all in black, someone standing behind me.

“Hey,” he said.

“Oh, hi. Sorry. I’m just delivering this for… uh… Evan?”


“Yeah. A printer or something?” I handed the box over and he glared at me.

“But seriously man, don’t climb over my fence.”

“Well, I was going to put this in your back yard.”

“Then walk around to the back.”


“Go around the other side.”

“I didn’t know there was a path over there. I didn’t see one.” The sidewalk went only left, not right.

“There is.” He stated.

“Ok.” We stared each other down. “I’ll know for next time.”

I walked around him and got in my van.

I took a drive around his house to see the other side. There was no path, the creep! Just the alley road that led all the way around to the backside of his garage. And then another fence to open. What’s the fucking difference if I go in this fence or that one? Asshole! ASShole! ASSHOLE!!!

This asshole lives at 12344 50 street.

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