Composing A Letter Of Disinvite

Alright, so I know that last week I said I would stop talking about the Naked Man Incident of 2010 on this blog, but it appears that I have lied. The reason for me ending my own personal media blackout is because I've learned a few things about the "Letter of Disinvite" and I want to share them with you. For example, did you know that the police do not send the Letter? Yeah, turns out that this is entirely left up to us. Also, there isn't a standard form to fill out or anything. It is literally a letter that we just have to write free-form and send to this man on our own. Plus, while I have a name I do not have an address, which means I have to track him down. What do you want to guess are the odds that he has a listed number? We don't even get a complimentary stamp for our troubles. Finally, what this means is that this man, who clearly has a problem staying on his meds and who previously found his way into my house by accident, will now get a letter from us in a moment of clarity. As I said before, I love getting mail from people and I would be concerned that this would lead to him thinking we are somehow friends. Given my luck you just know that somehow my address will be the one thing he clearly remembers next time he goes off his medication and then becomes convinced something important is going on at my house, leading to another visit.

Another problem with this scenario is that we're counting on this guy to confirm he got the letter, which might be asking a lot. Organization doesn't appear to be a high priority in his life. Not to mention the low odds that he would respect a Letter of Disinvite if he ever forgets to take his pills again. So, I could very well send it, only to have him show up at my house again and deny he ever received anything in the mail. When you stop and think about it, not only is the Letter of Disinvite legally worthless, but kind of a pain in my ass. Given all of that, it should come as no surprises that we're pretty much going to move on from the whole thing (except for the fact that I got a great story out of it you will all eventually be sick of hearing) and not send the Letter of Disinvite. However, that doesn't mean I'm not going to write it. Since the Letter of Disinvite is legally as powerless as an office manager sending an email reminding everyone to make sure they empty their lunches out of the fridge every Friday and even if he got it he could just as easily ignore it, I figure posting the letter on this blog is just as effective as mailing it to him. Hopefully he'll stumble upon it somewhere down the line. Here's how I figure the letter should be written:

Dear Matt,
First off, is it cool that I call you Matt? I feel like since I already know you're circumcised, we've crossed over that line of formality. Anyway, I hope you are feeling better. Clearly the first time we met you were having a pretty bad day. I heard at that time you were off your medication. Perhaps you should invest in one of those little containers that does your pills for the week, as it may help avoid confusion and similar situations in the future. My grandmother used to have one and seemed to work well for her. Plus, you can get them in multiple sizes and colors to help differentiate between your day pills and your night pills. Sorry if it is presumptuous of me to assume you are on multiple pills but given the way we met I hope you can see where I could make that leap.
Sorry, I'm rambling.
Anyway, while I am sympathetic to your situation, the purpose of this letter is to inform you I'm going to have to formally request you stay out of my home and off the property from now on. In fact, if you could take the long way around and not even walk on my street I feel like that would be better for everyone involved. (It sounds as though my house was not the only one you visited that afternoon.) I know barring you from an entire street seems harsh, but you need to see this from my point of view: it was bad enough that you wandered in while I was home alone, but my nieces are constantly visiting. What if they had been over? I don't want any of them seeing a man naked until they turn at least 35. Also, had they been inside I would not have talked you out, so much as thrown you out face-first. So, avoiding my house is the best thing for everyone involved. I hope you get the help you need, just no where near my family.

Sincerely,
The Rakauskas Family

There Was A Naked Man In My House...

About 1:20 this afternoon I was sitting in my living room, shopping for golf equipment on my laptop (because that's the kind of bad-ass I am) and enjoying a quiet end to a near-perfect Labor Day weekend, when I hear the door open. Because I come from one of those big New England family where no one knocks, I assume it is one of them and I think nothing of it. But, then I hear a very timid "Hello?" so I look up and standing in the doorway is a naked man. He's about 25, pale, tall (5'10") and scrawny (140 lbs), with shoulder-length brown hair and what appears to be a rash on half his face.

After the initial feeling of shock wears off, I have five thoughts in about 2 seconds:

1. I don't know this person.
2. Hey, that guy is naked. Why is he....
3. DANGER!
4. Hit him with the laptop!
5. No, wait, the laptop was expensive. Plus it has all your music on it and you just spent like a month getting it all in order. Would hate for that to have been for nothing. Put that down before proceeding. (It's amazing how my brain works at times.)

After putting down the laptop, the next thing I do is yell, "DUDE!" because that is the universal male response to unwanted male nudity. The only thing that varies is the inflection, depending on location and familiarity with the nude male. For example, if you are at a party and a drunken friend whips his junk out, you might turn away and groan, "Duuude." If you are at the gym and there is an old naked man who is taking too long to put his clothes on you might turn away and whisper to yourself, "Dude." But, because I did not know this man and my living room is not typically a place for male nudity, I cranked the volume to eleven and just yelled "DUDE!" as loud as I could.

Before I could even leap up out of my chair he's taking steps into the house with his hands up, pleading, "Don't be alarmed."

First off, this is never a smart thing to say because it automatically makes the person you say it to alarmed. But as bad as it normally is, it is the absolute worst thing you can ever say to a person if you are naked and they are clothed. "Dude, get the fuck out of my house," I scream.

"I need your help," he replies. This causes me to pause for just an instant while Irish-Catholic Guilt section of my brain chimes in: "He could be in trouble. You don't know his story. What if he was mugged and robbed, or kidnapped? You don't know your neighbors that well. One of them could be that guy from "Saw." Let's hear him out." Taking my pause as a cue to tell me his story, the naked man keeps going. "I've been poisoned."

Hearing this, the Irish-Catholic Guilt starts to waver. "Someone put acid in me," the naked man continues. To which the ICG says, "Never mind. This guy is nuts, we need to get him out of the house." I, agreeing with the ICG, respond with, "Dude, get the fuck out of my house!"
"But, I need help, I'm going to die," he says.
Full of sympathy, I reply with, "Get the fuck out of my house!"
"What town am I in?" he asked.
"You're in Norwood," I tell him. "...now get the fuck out of my house!"
"Someone is trying to kill me," he says. "I need to go to the hospital, but not here. You need to take me to the hospital in another town."
"You need to get the fuck out of my house," I repeat.
"Please, I'm gonna die," he said.

Despite the fact I am ending every sentence with, "you need to get out of my house," this actually goes back and forth for a few minutes. Weirdly, it appears I can't get through to the crazy person. Finally it occurs to me that I, for some reason, am actually negotiating with a naked man and I have had enough. "Look," I say, "You need to get out of my house. I'll get you a towel and call you an ambulance, but you need to get out."

"But..." he starts. Having made what is my best and final offer, I am done trying to reason with the naked crazy man and I want him gone. Now, I watch a lot of Discovery Channel, so I know in the animal kingdom the best way to get any potential predator to leave is to appear bigger than you are. Even though I've got six inches and easily a hundred and fifty pounds on the guy I try puffing my chest out like some sort of lizard, drop my voice a couple octaves, walk aggressively towards him and scream at him one more time to get out. This appears to scare him enough to get through whatever noise is going on in his head and he finally catches on that I might not want him in my home. So he backs up outside, to the point I can finally close and lock the door.

Now that he's not inside, I tell him through the door to stay put. I admit, that probably sent somewhat of a mixed message. But the thing is I live close to a soccer field that constantly has kids on it, so I wanted him out of my house, but I don't want him wandering that way. I run upstairs, grab a towel (not a good towel, mind you - a towel I won't mind never seeing again) and the phone and call 911. The woman on the other end asks my emergency, and I tell her a naked man just wandered into my house. Apparently, I sounded a little rattled.

"Calm down, sir," she says. Listen, lady, a possibly dangerous, probably crazy but definitely naked man just walked into my living room: you calm down. She says the police are on their way. By the time I get back downstairs the naked man has, not surprisingly, taken off. The police show up several minutes later and ask me where the naked man is, with enough skepticism in their voice that I'm worried they're going to think I'm the one who is high and seeing naked people. I told them he took off and I'm not sure where he went because I certainly wasn't about to go chasing after him to give him a towel.

Fortunately while they were taking my statement the naked man was spotted in my neighbor's yard and quickly arrested. Talking to my neighbors (naked, crazy people - bringing communities together!), it sounds as if he tried to get into their house first and then came up through the woods behind my house until he found an unlocked door. A door, I should point out, which will not be unlocked again for a while. You know, just before this happened I had been wondering what I was going to write about this afternoon. I really didn't need it to be something this interesting.

Also, what does it say about me that right after I heard he was caught I thought to myself, "This is going to make a hell of a blog post!"?

[Update #1: The police are requesting we send him a "Letter of Disinvite."]
[Update #2: Probably not going to send him the letter, but that doesn't mean I won't at least compose a first draft of it.]