One of the reasons I tell people why I love Ypsilanti so much is because the most interesting people come and knock on my door or talk to me on the street. Take this evening for example. A man came knocking on my front door with the story that he’d been robbed and needed to borrow five dollars until tomorrow. Normally I would have asked him what was so special about tomorrow, but I am quickly learning that when you ask questions to strangers who knock on your door, they are only going to keep talking to you. I came to my senses and asked him if I should call the police and if he was alright. He proceeded to give me his address, and as coincidence would have it, he was my neighbor. Well, he was obviously not my neighbor, but he gave me the address of my neighbor. At this point, I thought that he may have done something to them and took up residence in their house. Before I could go see if they were okay, he told me that he had been robbed at some undefined point in the past and the local authorities said that he was in no need of medical assistance. He even told me that he’d been stabbed and offered to show me. Before I could decline his invitation, he pulled up his shirt and showed me something. I’ve never been stabbed nor am I in the medical field, but I can safely say that he was pointing at a small scab or perhaps a boil. I diagnosed him as being very drunk and sent him on his way. In the end, he posed no threat to me and my family and he didn’t ask me to pray with him, but it’s encounters like this that bring me closer and closer to being a recluse.