Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

Art c/o Dawn Ann

"Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts"

The sign hung in a conspicuous spot on my house - namely at eye level on my front door. One could certainly say I was up front with my precautions. I'll grant this was about as enticing as a "caveat emptor" sign above a cash register, but it was honest nonetheless. It was pointless arguing with me about it - after all, I'd put up the sign.

"It's just a salad," she insisted again. I pointed at my sign. Again. She paused.

"But I'm not Greek," she said.

"Prove it," I said.

"What? Ugh. How?"

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"Everyone's Greek until proven otherwise. And those who can? Very possibly sneaky Greeks."

"Sneaky Greeks?"

"Sneaky Greeks."

"If everyone is Greek until proven otherwise, doesn't that make you Greek too?"

"More or less."

At this she raised an eyebrow until I conceded her point with a shrug.

"But that just lends more credence to my sign," I said.

"How so?"

"The most famous victim of Greeks bearing gifts? Greeks."

"You're impossible. I just wanted to bring you this salad to welcome you to the neighborhood. Now I don't want you to have it. In fact, I don't want you to feel welcome."

"Well, I'm sorry for ruining your plans."

"You should be."

"I mean it - I just have a thing about gifts."

"I can tell."

"Alright, sorry, sorry. How can I make it up to you? Maybe something a bit more neutral?"

"I suppose there's the block barbeque next Saturday. Come to that?"

"Great - what should I bring?"