Disclaimer: All characters and the story belong to Wendy Raimi and may not be used or archived without the author's permission.

Rating: G

    I was left at home. Alone.  I had gotten back at one after taking care of my neice, but now I was home and spending my time looking for a new host for my website.  It was 4:00pm by the next time I looked at the clock and the phone had been ringing off the hook, so now, of course, it was time for the door bell to ring.

    I rushed downstairs and opened the door gently, expecting Clyde, a friend of my father's. Instead I found a man of medium height, standing a far ways from the door, holding some sort of paper and smiling.

"Hi! I'm from a local restuarant--" and blah blah blah. He began to talk about this said restuarant and personally, I could care less, but I gave him my time and ear. Why? I didn't know.  Finally, after what felt like years, he mentioned the restuarant. I told him I had heard of it. He asked me if I ever went out to dinner. I told him I did, usually on Friday's. Of course, today was Friday. He asked if I ever went out with my boyfriend's or just any friend's in particular. I told him I went out.

"How many people go out with you?" he asked.

"Usually two or three. My boyfriend--"

"How many boyfriend's do you have?" he interrupted and I blinked.

"Boyfriend's? Just one, well, he's not really a boyfriend, he's my fiance--" I began and suddenly I found myself lying, on Good Friday!

"Congratulations!" I heard the man tell me, "Got any dates set, or any plans?"

"We're hoping for May." I told him, acting like the blushing finacee. Proud and hopeful.

"How many years have you been going out?"

"About two or three years...has it been two? No. It was three in Feburary." I responded, showing I was the kind of girl who didn't care about anniversary's. That I was in love with my wonderful boyfriend. The man smiled.

"Gee, usually's it's two or three days for some people."

I giggled politely and the man went on. It turned out he wanted money for his little advertising cardboard menu.

Finally, the lull in the coversation came. The one that would tell him whether I would pay or reject his offer of comission.

"You know, this sounds great, but I don't have any money on me. My boyfriend went to get me some."

"Oh, could he get me some while he's out?" the man joked. God, that was lame. I chuckled polietly.

"He'll be back later because my parents are coming over to hang out."

Yeah. I'm a hip engaged girl who hangs out with her parents.

"But I'm sure my father would be interested." I told him. The man nodded, blabbed some more about his advertising and handed me the piece of cardboard he wanted me to pay for. He said he would be back later to come pick it up and then he left. I closed the door and locked it, proceeding to set the card on the dining room table.

I wasn't getting married.

I had no boyfriend.

And I am only 17.

I chuckled in evil delight and went back upstairs to the computer.

I've told a lady at the store I'm 18 without her seeing any ID.

I've told a salesman I'm getting married.

And I feel like I rule the world.