I use to deliver oxygen to home-care patients in the Ozarks of Southern Missouri. One hot day I rolled up on a gravel road to the trailer. It had taken a couple of hours to get there, as it was way out in the sticks. After knocking dozens of times I entered. It was normal for bed-ridden elderly folks to just holler and I thought that maybe I didn't hear them. Usually I would follow an oxygen hose in the home to their location. Anyway - there was no hose. I went back out to my truck to make a call - no signal. I went inside and yelled again. I checked all the rooms. I looked in the bathroom. I sat down in an old Lazy-Boy in frustration. Waited... Got up and went exploring. Found an old M-14 rifle in a corner. Checked out their music collection. Kept checking the gravel drive. Found an engine block in the back room with a rusty old Samurai Sword without a handle laying beneath it. Went back to the bathroom and checked the medicine cabinet for names on prescription bottles to see if I had the same name on my delivery form. Different name. Wrong trailer. Wrong gravel road. Wrong guy in your trailer.