Shades of Privacy

To say that the lady was pleasantly plump would be misleading. No! This woman displayed globularity proudly as if it was a tribute to healthy cuizine.

To prove the point, she arrived on my doorstep with an over-large bowl of deep-fried chicken (which would have made Colonel Sanders proud) in one hand, an over-flowing plate of freshly baked croissants in the other, and one of those oily smiles that causes instant distrust.

We made the usual greeting noises.

"Hello." [ Hello. ]

"Welcome to the neighborhood. My name is Fannie and I live in the blue house across the street." She handed the food to me and smiled factitiously.

"Well, thank you. Come on in and visit." Furtively, I tried to remove the curlers from my hair as I poured her a cup of coffee.

There were no surprises here. It was a normal getting-to-know-you conversation, until Fannie said baldly: "I noticed that you don't have curtains at any of your windows."

Nonpulsed, I said the first thing which entered my head. "Hanging curtains is like trying to see clearly in a blind alley."

"Huh?"

"It's like being on a blind date with a fellow driving a limousine. If he doesn't check his side mirrors, he'll never see the menace approaching in his blind spot."

Fannie's smile wavered as she replied. "But most people draw their shades at night."

"Why?"

Her mouth puckered as she said hesitantly: "Well, I guess, so people can't see what you're doing."

Idly, my fingers toyed with a coffee cup. "It wouldn't make a shade of difference. Like the blind leading the blind, it would only give the illusion of privacy."

Fannie's frazzled hair-do wilted a little as she delicately swallowed a sip of java. "There's a lot of crime out there. Aren't you afraid, living by yourself? If you pulled your curtains at night, it could protect you from hugger-muggery."

HUGGER-MUGGERY ?!!! Give me a break! When's the last time you've heard someone use H-U-G-G-E-R-Y M-U-G-G-E-R-Y in polite conversation?

Besides, there was a fallacy in her argument. I didn't have any curtains to pull, not that I'm the type to go around pulling on curtains.

Have you noticed that the rods folks hang drapes on are rather flimsey? It'd be my luck to twitch a swag and have the whole ensemble fall. In my opinion, there are better ways of bringing down the curtain.

I looked straight into her heavily mascarad peepers. "Fannie, since the Patriot Act passed, there is no protection from hugger-muggery. Our government's prying eyes, draped in secrecy, screen every detail of our private lives. Why hang curtains to assauge our fears?"

Fannie's tush fidgeted uncomfortably in the chair. "Well, there's that." She stood, prepared to leave. "But if you need curtains, I'll be glad to help."

"Sure," I mumbled without looking up. "Perhaps, we can go shopping for some bamboo curtains. Or, possibly, some iron ones."

We walked to the door together. She paused on her way out and commented: "You're pretty thin. I never see you in your kitchen. Maybe tomorrow, I'll bring over some jelly rolls."

Shutting the door after her departure, I turned and surveyed the window casements. Yep. It was definately time to decorate their bare frames with something.

Let's see now . . . . What about a trompe l'oeil of fat priests on rice paper? Would it bushwhack two birds with the same brushstroke? Fat priests. This three-dimensional illusion of reality should discourage future Fannie-Curtain-Calls.

And hey! Currently, there's a privileged-privacy-pack for fundamentalists, isn't there? I ask you, what's more fundamental than a fat priest?

Yep! Foolscap should be just the right size to cover these delusions of privacy , don't you agree?
Shades Of Privacy © 2005 Chaeli Lee Sullivan