Stevie Evans woke up and looked at his clock. Damnit! He quickly put on a white t-shirt and pyjama pants. He threw on some slippers and almost tripped running down his stairs. No no no! He flung open the door and stared at his bare doorstep. Double damn! "Every damn morning!" he growled to himself. He rubbed his face and walked back up the stairs. For the last month his morning newspaper had been stolen by some evil newspaper thief. He subscribed to that paper and paid five dollars a month for it, so he was sick and tired of not being able to read it in the morning as he ate his bowl of Rice Crispies. He went to his room and threw off his shirt and sat on the corner of his bed. For the last week he had awoken before the paper boy came and waited at the door to take it from him the moment he walked up the sidewalk. However, today he had overslept and the paper was snatched yet again. He rubbed his face and crossed his arms over his chest. Today's going to be a bad day. He sighed and went to go take a shower. He needed to devise a plan and he thought best in the shower. Last time he was in there he discovered that bread, jam, marshmallow fluff, and nutella tasted like heaven in ones mouth. He got in the shower and soaped up his hair into a mini Mohawk. I got it! He smiled to himself, I'm going to wait until the thief takes it and then I'll catch them. He smirked to himself and finished up his shower.
When he was done putting on his suit and getting ready for work, he went to his kitchen and got his cereal ready. He sat down and shook his head, it'd be nice to eat cereal with someone, he sighed and shook his head. He wished that his love life was working out for him, but it just seemed that every girl he went out with was just insane. He wanted to find a nice young woman that he could watch Saturday cartoons with him in bed. He looked at his watch, Shit I'm late. He quickly threw his bowl in the sink and put on his coat. He ran to the door and realised he didn't have his car keys. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm down. Where did I have them last? He thought back to the night before and remembered that his keys were on his dresser. He grabbed them and ran out the door not paying any attention to where he was walking. Suddenly he felt something squishy underneath his shoe. What the actual fuck? He looked down and noticed he had stepped in some dog poop. Are you fucking kidding me! He looked at his foot in disgust, "did I fucking kick a puppy or something? What did I do to deserve this?" he spoke aloud. He shook his head and took off his shoe. He grabbed his sneakers from his gym bag, which was still in the car, and put them on instead. He drove off to work to have the crappiest, no pun intended, day of his life.
After being stuck in traffic for an hour and a half, he finally made it home. He stepped out of his car and saw a person in a hoodie with their dog by his lawn. The dog was pooping and the owner was looking around. They better pick it up, he thought as he watched the intrusion. The owner simply started to walk away.
"Hey!" he yelled out, while moving towards the intruder. The person quickly looked back at him and ran off with the dog. "Wait you asshole, come back and pick up the poop!" Three old ladies from across the street looked at him. He rolled his eyes and turned to see the person and the small dog run across the street towards the park. Murder is illegal, he reminded himself as he walked towards his house. He couldn't see the intruder's face but he would make sure that he remembered what the dog looked like. I'll get you my pretty and your little dog too. He smiled at his own cleverness.
The next morning he sat on a chair that he had taken from his kitchen and he placed it at the front door. He waited until he heard the paper boy throw the paper and then stood up to watch through the peep hole. He stood there for half an hour and nobody came. He leaned his head against the door. You have got to be kidding me. He rolled his eyes and started to open the door. When he opened it, he saw a beautiful curvy woman in a robe in front of him with his paper in her hand and a familiar small dog on a leash. The dog! "Youuuu!" he pointed at the woman who was staring at him with wide eyes. "You thief!," he then pointed to the dog, "You defecator!" the dog cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"Ummm, special delivery of your morning paper" she said holding out the almost stolen goods. She bit her lip and smiled, "service with a smile but no tip needed." He took it from her hand and squinted his eyes at her.
"See now I don't want to have to press charges," he started closing the door, "but I will" she stuck her foot in.
"Seriously?" she put her hand on her hip, "you would press charges for a two cent paper and some poop?"
"Theft is a serious crime," he looked at the dog, "and so is not picking up your dogs poop," he looked back at her, "which I might add is rude as hell." She rolled her eyes. "Sorry Ms...Whoever you are"
"How will you press charges?" she smirked, "You don't know my name or where I live," she smugly crossed her arms over her chest.
He smiled back at her, "You're wearing a robe." She raised an eyebrow, "which means you didn't come from very far," her eyes widened, "Meaning all I have to do is stand here until you leave and see where you go." She scowled and then smiled.
"Well then," she pushed the door open causing it to smack Stevie in the head and she walked inside with her dog. "I guess I won't be going home then" she said while standing in his foyer.
Stevie just stared at her with his mouth open, "I beg your pardon?" he moved towards her, "do you want me to add a breaking and entering charge to the list?"
"Nope," she shrugged, "I didn't break anything," she smiled, "I just entered."
"And now you'll leave," he pointed outside. She shook her head no.
"I'll only leave if you don't press charges," she placed her hands on her hips.
"Who's to say that I won't the minute you leave?" he folded his arms over his chest.
"Come on!" she glared at him, "I have a clean record and I don't need you messing it up," Stevie had no intention on calling the police but he was having fun bantering with the young woman. Her robe had slightly slipped open and he could see a bit of black lace underneath.
I wonder if she's single, "I'm curious," he paused, "why didn't you get your boyfriend to take the paper?" I'm so sly.
She rolled her eyes, "Because I don't need a man to do stuff for me," So wait, does that mean she's single? "I'm cold," she sighed, "I promise I won't steal your paper anymore and I'm sorry I didn't clean up after Chewie." She looked to the side, "both will never happen again,"
"Sorry, not good enough," he smirked.
"Fine!" she stomped her foot causing Chewie to jump, "Then what the hell do you want you prick?" she threw her hands in the air.
"A date," he said in a deeper more seductive voice. The woman looked shocked.
"Just press charges then," she said and walked out. Stevie just stood there stunned and watched her walk into the house next door. He smiled. I love a challenge. He closed the door and threw the paper on the kitchen table. He decided to find out more about the girl next door.