DOOR TO DOOR DISERVICE

I was going to call this pathetic story, the “Uninvited Guest”, but it didn’t quite fit. I wasn't uninvited at all.

I have little memory left, but I don’t ever remember destroying the property of my hosts. If the word gets out to people who might be planning on inviting me to their homes, I’ll become the “better-not-invite- her guest”!

What am I driveling about? It’s about that clinic again in Buffalo, Missouri. … The one that started with JR becoming the Wal-Mart Greeter at the Tire Center.

Gina Gardner’s Versatility Clinic was held at the fabulous home of Elmer and Suzanne Scott somewhere in the greater rural Buffalo (Missouri) area. Elmer and Suzanne’s home is perfect for a clinic. If you hear that they are having another clinic, just head out as you’ll have a great time, be treated as a member of the family and have a chance at being well fed!. The Scott’s have a beautiful light and airy indoor arena with a row of stalls. Out the back door is an outdoor arena plus a large grassy area in which to ride. There are beautiful Missouri Fox Trotters in various pastures surrounding the arena and home. It couldn’t be more perfect.

Suzanne originally described our lunch as being sandwiches, but lunch turned into a gourmet feast in this reporter’s eyes. We ate lunch on their large outside deck attached to their home. It was shady and breezy. In addition, Elmer tied his black stallion to a near-by tree and we got to gaze at a gorgeous black stallion while we were eating scrumptious food. Oh, the glory of it all. Life on Saturday was perfect. The clinic was perfect.

The tragic situation occurred on Sunday. Well, let’s get to it.

The clinic participants had our very own restroom and shower to use in the basement. The entrance was through the garage, so we didn’t have to track our dirt into the house. Suzanne took me down the basement stairs and pointed out the last step as being the problem. She told me to watch out for that step. My mind heard that admonishment, but my body paid no attention.

While we were having lunch on Sunday, I decided it was time to visit the basement. My mind was full of the fun and wonderfulness of everything horse and people. I opened the door to the basement and stepped …where? You see, when you open a door, you expect there will be a floor on the other side. That is not the case with this door. You open the door and there is another step. Because I was in another world, I opened the door, stepped into thin air and began a fast downward spiral. Luckily, my left hand stayed on the doorknob while my right hand came across to grab the doorknob too. In a split second, I was hanging on to the door with both hands while making a rapid downward descent. The door swung wide with the full weight of my body attached to the doorknob. We were probably swinging at 15 G's.

Whoops. The path of the swinging door was not free. In fact this was the end of the hallway and my door was headed right into a neighboring door.

WHAM!

My flight stopped abruptly. I was still on my feet.

I slowly moved my door and gazed at the damage. GASP! I stared at a hole in the other door. A hole made by a doorknob; A doorknob that had been attached to my hands and falling body.

When touring other people’s homes or looking at houses for sale, I shudder when finding doors and walls with these holes. I always think some terrible raging force had been at work where a fist had been slammed into a wall or door. I am always in a hurry to get out of these houses.

Now, I’m staring at a hole in a door made by a former extremely happy person. Of course, now I was filled with HORROR. I put a hole in someone’s door! I stared and willed it to be a dream. It was a dream all right, a nightmare!

I trudged up the stairs to confess my sin to my host and hostess. I should have been uninvited right then. I should have been beaten and yelled at. That would have made me feel good. But no, Both Suzanne and Elmer just smiled, told me not to worry, and it would get fixed. Suzanne said Elmer could just turn the door around or she could get the broken part, glue it and paint over it. NO PROBLEM! I felt horrible. They treated me wonderfully.

I wanted to believe them.

I had a great time at the rest of the clinic. My guilt is still intact.

 

Send email to Susan at:  
Susanfxtrt@aol.com