The Turkey

So, at 6pm today the turkey was still at the same spot as it was last night, and I could smell it from 15 feet away. I was pondering what sort of note I could leave on the turkey to encourage my neighbor to a) move the turkey, b) not eat the turkey, and c) answer his door occasionally so that neighbors can let him know when there are turkeys on his doorstep. So, as I had decided to leave my apartment to check my mail, I discovered that the stinky rotten turkey was sitting on my doormat!

Now, I know it didn't move there by itself, no matter how full of bacteria it is. I am annoyed, because now it is 10-15 pounds of sticky rotting turkey flesh, polluting my doormat. My once-nice doormat.

So, as I am standing in the doorway, with my front door open, (letting all the stinkiness into my apartment) my keys in hand and my mouth agape, a man walks up. He looks like a door-to-door salesman, but I don't notice this as he walked up.

I ask him in my annoyed voice, "Do you know whose turkey this is?"

He looks surprised, "Umm, no, I don't."

We exchange a few words about the turkey and then he turns and knocks on my neighbor's door... and Neighborboy answers it!

Mr. Salesperson asks Neighborboy, "Umm, is this your turkey?"

Neighborboy says: "No, it's not mine." And here is where I think he noticed me and the look on my face. "I don't know where the turkey came from. I have been wondering about it."

Me: "It's been in your doorway for three days."

Neighborboy: "Uh, yeah. I know. I saw it there. I didn't know what to do about it."

And here it is folks, the reason I'm still single...

Me: "Maybe when something sits next to your door for three days, you should assume that it is yours, and do something about it before it becomes a problem to your neighbors."