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it’s a big enough umbrella, but it’s always me that ends up getting wet
by mg at 07:22 PM on June 20, 2005
I’m not at all ashamed to admit I’ve led a pretty uneventful life compared to some of the other regulars around here. I’ve never been pals with a drug kingpin, never really gone out and got wasted regularly, and definitely never had sex with a cat. In the last couple years, as I’ve gotten married, become a parent, and now have regular conversations about mortgages, money market accounts, and annual percentage rates, it seems unlikely I’ll have a chance to lead a wild life.
So it was a big shock to me last week that I found myself not only awake at 1 am on a Friday night, but awake at 1 am on a Friday night and on the other side of the door from four police officers with their hands on their guns.
My wife started a stay at home mom’s group in our neighborhood, and in the couple months she has been doing it the group has grown to 20 or so moms. Usually they get together during the day to go on walks, meet at the park, or any number of other child-friendly activities. It is a great way for them to get out of the house and have a conversation with someone who doesn’t poop them self on a regular basis.
The wife scheduled a night out with her moms last Friday to a local bar. I stayed at home with the kid while the little woman went out and enjoyed herself. After putting the little one to sleep, I lay on the couch and started to drift off. I wanted to stay up to make sure the wife made it home okay, and when she did around 11 or so, I went straight to bed.
Cut to 1 am, when we both wake up to the sound of someone furiously ringing and knocking on our front door. I’m sure I’ve mentioned, in the past, my alcoholic neighbors, with their prison tattoos and frequent late-night meltdowns. Even if there weren’t potentially dangerous folk actually living in the building, I’ve heard enough stories of break-ins that I wasn’t exactly rushing to open the front door. But by the time I fully woke up, got dressed, and got up the gumption to open my front door, there wasn’t anyone there.
I did, however, find the front door completely open.
Not to brag, but my mind works quickly, even if after I’ve been woken up from a dead sleep. I knew right away that no one had tried to break into my apartment, because if they had, they had succeeded, the door was open. Now, I don’t have a criminal mentality, but I do feel fairly certain positing that someone wouldn’t break into a house just for fun. If someone is going through the trouble of picking my lock they a) wouldn’t knock, and b) would come inside to rape and pillage when they succeeded in opening the door.
The simple answer was that my wife, a little tipsy from a rare night on the town, had come home and neglected to close the front door, much less lock it (or is that “lock the front door, much less close it”? whatever). She groggily confirmed that hypothesis when I got back to the bedroom.
At this point I am very wired. I try to lie down for a bit, but am feeling a little hopped up. I get back out of bed just in time to look out the window and see two cops cars pulling up outside my apartment.
I then uttered a phrase I never in my life thought I’d have a use for, “Oh great, now the cops are here.”
Again, my mind works quickly, and I immediately realize what happened is that one of our neighbors noticed the open door, was checking up on us, and when no one answered, did the obvious thing by calling the cops.
I get dressed again and head to the door. “This is the police,” which at this point I knew, yet still I looked through the people in time to see four police officers stepping back from the door and moving their hands to their gloks. Now, if I were hopped up on crank, I could imagine this might be a very scary situation, but by this point I already see the comedy and open the door laughing.
comments (14)
Did the cops join in laughing or did they something like: This is no laughing matter, son.
Can't believe how lucky you were that it was a decent neighbour to have seen your door open, and not a murdering rapist who could have wandered into your bedroom with god awful breath, a glimmer in his eye, and a certifcate in torture.
Neighbours see the door open a couple hours later, knock, no answer, cops, no laughing MG, just a place full o' the grim stuff I occasionally stumble across in jpegs online.
by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at June 20, 2005 7:34 PM
George Bush I ate at my parents' bistro. We worked there. We joked around about assassinating him. As the Secret Service informed us, that is no laughing matter and in fact is a crime. Neither is leaving your door wide open in Jackson Heights, Columbia.
by anna at June 21, 2005 7:35 AM
Gerald Ford, I mean. And his wife Betty, drunk and raucous.
by anna at June 21, 2005 7:36 AM
ECG:NCO - Yeah, exactly, I know what kind of freaks actually live IN my building, and I know I wouldn't want most of them in my actual apartment, much less some complete stranger freak.
When telling this story to other people I also mention how in college I didn't even have keys for two of the houses I lived in. The doors were never locked, and no one ever thought that was strange. Someone was actualled stabbed to death maybe 100 feet from my front door, and I lived on the same block as student rioting that made it to CNN, but I never felt unsafe once.
Hey Anna, I don't live in JH anymore, but thanks for that. Hey, what is your home address and phone number?
by mg at June 21, 2005 8:24 AM
2423 Whore Street, Kiliington VT. Come by sometime.
by anna at June 21, 2005 11:24 PM
Maybe if I mentioned eating poo more people would comment. Maybe I should leave well enough alone.
by mg at June 22, 2005 6:25 PM
Whore Hey wasn't really a drug kingpin, he was more of a drug princepin or maybe a drug queenpin.
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