Our neighborhood has 24-hour security guards. A few friendly Zimbabwean men staff the guard house about 40 feet from my back door and they are generally familiar with all the comings and goings of everyone in the neighborhood. Each night after dark the security guards close the main entry gate and you have to show ID to get past. Every night when a car approaches, they run out of the gate house to check IDs, open the gate for residents, and then run back in to monitor the security cameras.
Our house is on the corner, so it's driveway technically sits "before" the gate, which means that every night when I drive in, the guard comes running out to let me in the main gate and then has to run right back into the guard house when I swing a sharp right into our driveway, instead of the next sharp right onto the main road, making his 80 foot roundtrip run totally worthless.
I always feel bad for his wasted trip, so a few weeks ago I started flashing my lights at him when I'm coming down the road so he would know it was me and then he would know not to come out.
I'm happy to report that after a few nights of this routine my little plan worked! Now each and every night, me and my new friend, the unnamed security guard, have a system worked out. Right after I flash my lights, he just sticks his head out to wave at me and watches to make sure I get into the house okay. And I gotta tell you, it puts a smile on my face every night.
Sometimes it's just nice to be known. Being known is what makes a place feel like home, even if it's the unnamed security guard :)
I think I'll call him Joe. And tomorrow Joe will get some cookies. And tomorrow I will find out his real name. And tomorrow night I will look forward to his familiar wave letting me know that I'm home.
