Maurice After Christmas

      Christmas is over.  Paper and boxes and candy and electronics and gobs of filthy lucre litter the area (s).  We be paying this one off for a long time.  A day without bone-crushing debt is like a day without sunshine.  The amount dropped at The Giants Dugout alone is astonishing.  Go Giants.  Go turn us upside-down and shake until our pockets are empty.  We love it - it feels good. 
      So I get a call on the cellular this morning - it is Maurice from the parking lot.  Long story embarrassingly short - I did give this complete stranger my cell phone #.   Say what ?   When I first got a cell phone, only 4 people were allowed to have the number : husband, kids, and mother.   Even that was a push.  They had to earn it.   Like voting : a privilege, not a right.
   You must know that this is extremely atypical behavior for Trudy, this giving of information to anyone.  I often comport myself as if I am living in the Witness Relocation Program.  It's just better this way. (Remember : you're only paranoid if they're NOT really after you.  Fact.)    Completely against type and unprecedented.   For what it's worth, and now that the offspring are grown, the message is and always has been this : trust no one.  Ever.  There IS a boogey man.  Mommy has seen him and he will get you.   Bad people happen, so best to just assume they're out to get you.  It's just a matter of when and how bad..  
    As awful as this may seem, it is somewhat of a relief not to have to dress it up for the kids anymore.   I guess you really, in good conscience, cannot raise a child in this way.  Children have to learn to trust and develop good judgment and be cautious and curious at the same time.   They need to experience and experiment and try and fail and learn.   If a child is raised to fear the world, that is wrong.  But if a child gets hurt by the world, is that not wrong, 
too ?     Especially if a simple warning would have helped ?  Think about it.
  So, Maurice calls, and he says he has a gift for me.  I had told him his was so not necessary - the man parks cars 7 days a week, and has a family to raise.  Chief and Sparky are all over me : who called, who was it, they woke us up, etc.  I am loath to confess my security faux pas.  I admitted that it was my new Christmas pal, Maurice from 5 Star Parking on Bryant Street.  He invited me to stop by the parking lot so that he could give me a gift.  I think it is terribly sweet.  The family is appalled.  Oh, the sputtering and yelling and just utter disbelief.  I stand at the ready to take endless shit from these people who purport to love me most of all.  But what could I do when Maurice wanted my number so he could gift me  ?   Be nice and kind to him and then basically admit that he is "the help" and nothing more?  I had almost accepted the fact that, for whatever reason, Maurice was just a nice person who.. got past the moat for a brief time.  Alligators, barbed wire, and land mines notwithstanding.
   I invite Chief to go with me, since he was so concerned about my judgment (or lack thereof).  He says no way - I insist, just so he can see that Maurice is, oddly enough, NOT the boogey man.   We get to 5 Star, and there is Maurice - grinning and waving as we pull in. He leads us to his car and produces a Target gift certificate.   He apologizes for it being "...a bit light ."  He is beaming and blushing. So am I .  I told him he shouldn't have.   He says he wanted to.  He tells me that his children loved the cookies I baked.  We report nice Christmases, and offer wishes for the new year. 
    We hug and shuffle our feet in an " aw shucks" kind of a way.  He proudly offers us "free parking anytime !"  I tell him I don't want to jeopardize is job by him giving freebies.  He stops, grabs my hand and says : "No, it's okay. The boss told me that my family and really best friends can park free."
   I am not sure which category I fall under : but surely the boogey man would consider me neither friend nor family.