|Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before|
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
After getting my bearings, I looked out my window, and there on the stairs of the fire escape was a person creeping their way down the steps on their tip-toes. Here is a quick impression of the inside of my head when I saw this:
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
While the stairs of the fire escape go by my window, the actual fire escape landing is outside of the window in my kitchen -- the next room over. I live on the second floor (just like Luka). Now I'm hoping that, for whatever bizarre middle of the night reason, it is someone from the upstairs apartment trying to get to the backyard. Or perhaps it's Spider-Man and he got lost or ran out of webs. Then I hear the window being finagled with and I finally accept the fact that someone wants in.
Ok. What do I do? What do I do? Do I turn my light on and try to scare them away, or yell outside, "I called the cops!" No, because it might be some crackhead with an itchy trigger finger. Time to call 911. I've called 911 once before in my life during an ice storm when some icy power lines caused an explosion. But there I was in no immediate danger. The electrical box thing exploded and started a tiny fire out on the street. No big deal. Here was someone trying to get into my fucking apartment, motive unknown. Calling 911 is a surreal experience. I start getting even more nervous when I start going through the whole conversation with the operator, because you really start to think about the situation. I remained pretty calm. I was thinking that if something drastic does happen here, they might play the 911 call on the local news. And those things always sound so ridiculous. It's someone screaming and the 911 operator saying, "Ma'am/Sir, I need you to calm down. What is your address?" Then the person is like, "Oh God PLEASE someone get here now!!!" And the people watching are like, "Tell her where you live, you jackass!" I didn't want to be that person.
So I explain to her what's going on and then she tells me the cops are on their way. OK. So I just wait here then? I'm sitting there on my bed looking around for a Weapon of Ass Kicking Destruction, like a baseball bat or a hockey stick. Unfortunately, all of that stuff is at my home in NJ. I've got a frisbee and a baseball. That's about it. If this guy gets in, we can have a catch.
Then I hear whispering on the fire escape. FUCK! There's two of them. Now I imagine myself getting raped by one while the other steals my DVD player (truthfully, I'm thinking about my female roommates in the other rooms, but it's better for the story if I get raped). So now I'm wondering, "Do I try and sneak through the kitchen to my roommates' bedrooms and tell them to get out of the house?" No. Just wait for the cops.
Just when I'm thinking, "Damn, these burglars suck," I hear something slide open. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. They are getting in. Where are the Boys in Blue???
So many questions I'm asking myself. Do I go and try to defend my home? No, it's probably some fucking crackheads who just want a stereo or a DVD player to sell. It's not worth risking my life. Just let them do what they are going to do. Cops should be here any minute. But what if they do decide to wander into my roommate's room and do the unimaginable? Well, then I'll definitely have to go out and try to do something. So just wait this out and see what happens. Cops will be here. I keep hearing them trying to mess with the window. Apparently, they can't get in, and the sliding that I heard must have just been the outside screen and not the actual window, which was locked.
All of the sudden, I see two people walking back up the fire escape. What the hell? Are they giving up? Were there three of them and one finally got in? Then I hear people walking down the stairs from the third floor and a knock at the door of the first floor. The cops are here. I go out, open my apartment door, and there on the first floor is one of my roommates answering the door for the cops. Wha? She and her guy friend were locked out of the apartment, but apparently didn't feel like knocking or calling, so they figured they'd try to scare the absolute shit out of me by trying to break in on the fire escape. I'm still not sure what happened or why they didn't knock or how they got to the fire escape. I really didn't stay up to chat. I was more interested in going back to sleep and getting my heart rate down to a normal pace. My roommate apologizes profusely and says, "When you think about it now, it's really kind of funny." Yes yes. That would have been hilarious if the cops decided to blow your head off. This is all very funny.
So all in all, it was kind of a disappointment. No shootout in my kitchen, no bloodshed, no near death experience. I was thinking maybe something would have happened that would give me a new lease on life, and I'd live every day to the fullest. No such luck. I'm still going to watch too much TV and not take advantage of the wonderful world around me.
I do have to give the cops credit. They were there pretty quickly. Had this been a fire, I'd be dead because Mayor Assberg decided to shut down our firehouse to save a few bucks. To the cops dis-credit, my roommate, said, "Oh wow, you guys scared me." They replied, "Well, you scared us." Cops are not allowed to be scared. At least, don't admit it.
One thing that I am very happy about is that when I get scared, I don't shit myself.