Okay, so I know I promised a part 2 for my nicknames blog from Tuesday to be posted yesterday, but I had forgotten that my department at work was moving to a different part of the building and that took most of the day leaving me no time to write on breaks.
Unfortunately for you, even more life happened to me last night so you’ll have to wait an extra couple of days to read the thrilling conclusion to “The G Fresh Saga: Attack of the Pseudonyms”.
However, because of said life happenings you DO get to read about “The Burglar(s) Who Broke Into My Duplex, Did a Little Ransacking and Stole My Hunting Rifle; But Don’t Worry, My Cats Are Okay In Case You Were Wondering”. That’s just the working title though, I may just shorten it to “Douche Canoes in Da’ Hood”.
My 34 year streak of never having been a crime victim has come to an end. Yes my friends, until yesterday I had never had my place of residence broken into, never been mugged, never had my car stereo stolen and never been forced to listen to a Nickelback/Justin Bieber/Lady Gaga mash-up at gunpoint.
For those of you who’ve not had the pleasure of being burglarized, it’s kind of like being visited by the tooth fairy—if instead of coming by in the middle of the night and giving you money for your bloody, enamel-coated DNA chunk, the tooth fairy put in an appearance during the day when you were gone, pulled everything out of your closets, threw your clothes and couch cushions on the floor and left dirty dishes all over the place…
…Come to think of it, that last one might have been me…
Anyway, I got home last night around 5 with a grocery bag full of food that I was going to make into super delicious chili for my Bible study’s Chili Night. The front door was closed (and I thought locked, but now I’m not so sure) and everything seemed fine. I went in and noticed the hall light on. I didn’t think too much of it as I assumed I had just accidentally left it on when I left the house that morning. I was so focused on what I needed to do to make my chili that I didn’t notice right away that the light wasn’t the only thing that was out-of-place. As I went to turn off the hall light I saw that my bedroom light was on as well which was really weird as it’s extremely rare that I forget to turn one light off (although it happens) let alone two. It was about then that I noticed some stuff had been pulled out of my closet and piled on my bed.
Absurdly, for a second there I was like hmmm…when did I do that? And then I started noticing all sorts of things not where I had left them and immediately tensed up; ready to chew bubblegum and kick ass, although I was all out of bubblegum at that point.
I attempted to walk calmly back down the hall towards the front of the house which may or may not have included an attempt at whistling a jaunty, nonchalant-y tune, possibly the theme to Andy Griffith, to let any burglars that were potentially still in my duplex know that I was super unobservant and hadn’t noticed the mess they had made.
This was also about the time that I noticed the front bedroom with the lights out and the door most of the way closed. My whistling may have picked up by a few dozen beats per minute at that point and the video in my head of Opie skipping rocks across the pond took on a slightly frantic and kind of hilarious Benny Hill tilt, minus the half-naked English chicks.
As I turned the corner at the end of the hall I saw that the couch cushions had been thrown on the floor and it was about that point that I sped up my oh-so-casual stroll and hurried outside, leaving the cats to fend for themselves in case there was still someone in there.
What can I say? I love them, but they’re still just cats. Plus they completely and utterly failed to guard my abode. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out that they had rubbed up against the scofflaw(s) and begged to be petted, the traitors.
Hmmm…I just realized how lengthy this post was getting so I’m going to publish “Part II: Discovering My Hunting Rifle Was Gone, What The Police Officer Said and Yes, My Dumb, Useless Cats Are Still Okay”, tomorrow and then Part II of the nickname post on Monday. Sorry for the out of sequence-ness, but it’s been a weird week.
Have you ever wanted to punch a complete stranger in the throat because they took away your feeling of being secure in your own home, even if just briefly? (FYI, I slept with the lights off last night; like a Boss)
Are there any pets more useless than cats?