So now that she’s back, I don’t mind publicizing the the intraweb that my roommate was gone for 16 days and amongst other losing-my-dang-mind things about living alone, I thought one day while showering that I heard someone enter my house.
Now, any time you are in the shower and you hear someone come in, it’s a bit of a sketchy sitch, but when your are the ONLY human being with a key/reason to be in your house, the stakes go up, pplfriends.
I am halfway through rising my hair and decide the gig is up, since I can’t possibly close my eyes to properly rinse, becuase if i close my eyes that WILL be the exact moment the murderous letch (that’s who it must be) chooses to come in a stab me a la psycho. Yes, I did run through all of this is the .5 seconds after I heard the sound.
I get out of the shower, turn off the water, wrap up in my (thankfully) enormous towel, and go downstairs to check on what’s going on because (PRAISE THE LORD) our house is pretty teeny, and very open, so there isn’t really a place for
murderous letches people to hide.
Now, before you think I’ve seen too many slasher flicks (i have. because i’ve seen at least one. and THAT IS TOO MANY), let me inform you that in my past are stories of my uncle being attacked WITH A MACHETE while coming home one night, my mom being robbed, hog-tied, and pistol whipped and left on the floor WHILE 8 MONTHS PREGNANT WITH ME and let’s not forget the robbery where my cousin was shot in the head (he lived) or the one where we were all gone for an HOUR, but when we came back the house was cleaned out.
So, I maybe sorta-kinda have a TEENSY bit of healthy, real-life, first hand experience with “ohmygodohmygodsomeonebrokeintomyhouse.”
BUT, I KNEW I had locked the door and that no one else SHOULD be able to get in so, I was almost sure that I had heard someone enter the neighbor’s house (duplex. thin walls) I just had to make sure.
I get down the stairs and see the obviously valuable things (purse, computer, guitar) still exactly where they were and more importantly, no cloaked, bowler-hat-wearing nefarious characters lurking in corners.
BUT THE DOOR IS UNLOCKED. I murmured some VERY heartfelt prayers to God for calling me downstairs to lock the door as a warning while I rushed forward and locked both the door and the deadbolt.
And at the exact moment of the deadbolt’s click, I hear a low, hesitant,
“Hello?” to which I reply,
And freeze there, between my front door and the downstairs bathroom, shuddering in fear and wondering where he is, this killer that i’ve now LOCKED IN THE HOUSE WITH ME.
“Oh my gosh,” the voice continues, “I’m so sorry, this is Allen, your landlord? I’m so sorry.”
“Uhmdsfihapoefe;fkef,” I said back, “That’s uh, that’s i mean, it’s okay. i mean, where are you?” (I still can’t quite tell where the voice is coming from, and I think he might be in the bathroom behind me. Which doesn’t make anything better, I’m still IN A TOWEL.)
“I’m outside. I’m so sorry, I came to let the plumber in to fix the shower (another story) but when I came in I heard water running, so I stepped back outside.”
and the rest is boring but whatever. i had an intruder.