I got out of bed this morning at 8:40 and got in the shower. My dog started barking about five minutes into my shower as I was trying to wake up. I figured she was just spooked by either the clock radio or maybe a garbage truck. Ten minutes later I get out and she's still barking. I hear something odd sounding and I look for the cat.
Wearing a towel I head into the living room to look for the dog. The dog runs past me towards the bedroom and I hear the door knob rattling. Through the blinds on the door I can make out a dark figure. The figure takes two steps back. The blinds on the window to the left of the fire place are raised just over half way and I can see him from about the waste down. He was wearing baggy black pants and a pair of brown Lugz. He looked like he had stepped back to kick the door in. Out of instinct I screamed all hardcore at the guy and he took off out the fence, and cut across in front of the neighbor's house towards the rear of the subdivision. I grabbed the phone and called 911 while running outside wearing a towel and grasping a butcher knife in my right hand. Not seeing him anywhere I went back inside and got dressed.
No sooner than I had finished dressing, four cruisers and a K9 unit rolled up in front of my house. Two cops took my statement as another one examined the back door and the K9 unit picked up the guys scent. The dog and two officers followed his scent for nearly half a mile into the back of the neighborhood where it suddenly disappeared. Evidently the asshole ran back there and jumped in a car and left while I was getting dressed.
Upon further examination, it turned out the guy first removed the screen on the window to the right of the door (on the outside), hoping to reach in and unlock the door. Failing that, he started breaking the plastic molding off the back door itself, as if he thought he could remove one of the panels of glass on the back door and unlock it. Too bad for him it was actually one large sheet of glass with fake plastic panes laid over it. I honestly believe he was frustrated after all of that and was about to kick the door open to get whatever he wanted. He could probably see my laptop and guitars through the window. I don't have anything else worth stealing except for the cat (good luck running off with that 300lb TV).
After the cops left I put Puppy out to do her thing and I went over to close the gate that the would-be robber left open. I went to swing the gate closed and looked down to find a screwdriver lying on top of some leaves. I knew it wasn't mine. It was in bad shape, had scrape marks all over it, and had duct tape wrapped around the shaft. I got down to look at it and found a chip of green paint at the end of the shaft, sticking to the duct tape, matching that on my door. I called the cops back out. After examining the screwdriver, they said they probably couldn't lift prints from it, and they'd just throw it away if they took it back with them.
I took the screwdriver inside and left it on the kitchen table, put my guitars in the locking closet, packed my laptop up and drove off to work, a ball of nerves, feeling nauseous from the adrenaline that had been pumping through my system for an hour.
It's now eight hours later and I'm still nervous. I don't feel violated, but I can't get over the nerve of that fucking guy thinking I had already gone to work and trying to break into MY fucking house. Then the thought hit me. What if Laura had been here? We're no longer seeing each other, but I'd be Goddamned if anyone hurt her. I was ready to stab this mother fucker the second he crossed my threshold.
Now I get to go home and look at the screwdriver lying on the kitchen table, wondering if he's going to be ballsy enough to come back for the evidence he left behind.
Wearing a towel I head into the living room to look for the dog. The dog runs past me towards the bedroom and I hear the door knob rattling. Through the blinds on the door I can make out a dark figure. The figure takes two steps back. The blinds on the window to the left of the fire place are raised just over half way and I can see him from about the waste down. He was wearing baggy black pants and a pair of brown Lugz. He looked like he had stepped back to kick the door in. Out of instinct I screamed all hardcore at the guy and he took off out the fence, and cut across in front of the neighbor's house towards the rear of the subdivision. I grabbed the phone and called 911 while running outside wearing a towel and grasping a butcher knife in my right hand. Not seeing him anywhere I went back inside and got dressed.
No sooner than I had finished dressing, four cruisers and a K9 unit rolled up in front of my house. Two cops took my statement as another one examined the back door and the K9 unit picked up the guys scent. The dog and two officers followed his scent for nearly half a mile into the back of the neighborhood where it suddenly disappeared. Evidently the asshole ran back there and jumped in a car and left while I was getting dressed.
Upon further examination, it turned out the guy first removed the screen on the window to the right of the door (on the outside), hoping to reach in and unlock the door. Failing that, he started breaking the plastic molding off the back door itself, as if he thought he could remove one of the panels of glass on the back door and unlock it. Too bad for him it was actually one large sheet of glass with fake plastic panes laid over it. I honestly believe he was frustrated after all of that and was about to kick the door open to get whatever he wanted. He could probably see my laptop and guitars through the window. I don't have anything else worth stealing except for the cat (good luck running off with that 300lb TV).
After the cops left I put Puppy out to do her thing and I went over to close the gate that the would-be robber left open. I went to swing the gate closed and looked down to find a screwdriver lying on top of some leaves. I knew it wasn't mine. It was in bad shape, had scrape marks all over it, and had duct tape wrapped around the shaft. I got down to look at it and found a chip of green paint at the end of the shaft, sticking to the duct tape, matching that on my door. I called the cops back out. After examining the screwdriver, they said they probably couldn't lift prints from it, and they'd just throw it away if they took it back with them.
I took the screwdriver inside and left it on the kitchen table, put my guitars in the locking closet, packed my laptop up and drove off to work, a ball of nerves, feeling nauseous from the adrenaline that had been pumping through my system for an hour.
It's now eight hours later and I'm still nervous. I don't feel violated, but I can't get over the nerve of that fucking guy thinking I had already gone to work and trying to break into MY fucking house. Then the thought hit me. What if Laura had been here? We're no longer seeing each other, but I'd be Goddamned if anyone hurt her. I was ready to stab this mother fucker the second he crossed my threshold.
Now I get to go home and look at the screwdriver lying on the kitchen table, wondering if he's going to be ballsy enough to come back for the evidence he left behind.
1 comment:
Walmart sells a pump shotgum with a short barrell for less than $200. Maybe you should invest. Auntie Frog
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