I Stopped a Home Invasion with a Stomach Ache I never…
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I Stopped a Home Invasion with a Stomach Ache
I never minded being home alone until last Wednesday night.
My girlfriend went out for her usual Wednesday night book club meeting at the library downtown. I used that time to catch up on a Steelers game that I had missed from the weekend before.
It was the start of the second quarter when my dog, Chase, started barking from downstairs. I just assumed he heard a neighbor outside or something. It wasn't unusual for the neighborhood hooligans to ride their dirt bikes down the street after 8:00 p.m.—an event that had pissed off quite a few neighbors and their pets.
I hollered for Chase to settle down and turned my attention back to the game. He stopped for a moment before starting up again, this time whining and whimpering louder than before.
Frustrated, I got up and called for him from the top of the stairs. That's when I noticed he was cowering in front of the door. I had never seen him scared like that before, which concerned me.
I made my way to the door and peeked through the peephole. For whatever reason, I half expected some horrible, demented face to be staring back at me from the other side.
What was there was almost worse.
I couldn't make out many details, but there was a dark figure wearing a hoodie that obscured their face. The weirdest part was that the figure stood perfectly still, like some kind of statue looking back at me. I could also see something in their hand, but it was too dark to tell what it was.
Every hair on my arms stood up. I locked eyes with Chase and mulled over what to do next. In retrospect, the obvious thing was not to open the door, but I wanted them to just go away.
I told Chase to sit and looked through the peephole one last time before opening the door.
To my surprise, there was no one there.
You might think that would have been a relief, but to me it was like that joke about the spider in your house not really being scary until you no longer know where the spider went.
I made my way around the house, sneaking looks through the blinds to see if the person was around the side or back of the house, but there was no one.
After a few minutes, I finally convinced myself that whoever had been out there was gone and called Chase upstairs. I shut him in my office while I went to the bathroom.
I had just started my business when I heard Chase start barking again.
I remember thinking at that moment that getting robbed while you're doing number two had to be one of the worst times.
I sat there, hoping Chase was just worked up from earlier, when I heard a shoe squeak on the stairs.
I desperately wanted to believe my girlfriend was home early from book club, but deep down I knew that wasn't true.
I heard whoever it was stumble as they made their way to the top of the stairs.
I fumbled for my phone as they stopped in front of the bathroom door.
I was doing my absolute best to stay quiet, but anxiety had not done my stomach any favors.
I clenched every muscle in my body, praying it wouldn't betray me.
I was literally fighting for my life in that bathroom.
Then it happened.
My body let loose.
I watched as the feet on the other side of the door slowly backed away.
The person hesitated. I could tell they were processing what just happened. Then they began to cough and quickly made their way down the stairs.
After sitting completely still for at least thirty minutes, I finally mustered the courage to look around.
When I didn't find anyone in the house, I called my girlfriend and explained everything. She confirmed that she had not come home early from book club, but she refused to believe I had scared someone away simply by farting. When I finally convinced her I was telling the truth, she insisted that I hang up and call the police.
I questioned whether or not to call the police. My worry was that they'd either think I was making the whole thing up or, even worse, believe me, and I'd forever be known at the station as the guy whose flatulence prevented a home invasion.
After the most embarrassing phone call of my life, a patrol car showed up. I explained what had happened, and the officer informed me that there had been a string of burglaries in the area and that the suspect was considered armed and dangerous.
He cracked a smile when he said,
"I guess you are too.”
#entertainment
source
I never minded being home alone until last Wednesday night.
My girlfriend went out for her usual Wednesday night book club meeting at the library downtown. I used that time to catch up on a Steelers game that I had missed from the weekend before.
It was the start of the second quarter when my dog, Chase, started barking from downstairs. I just assumed he heard a neighbor outside or something. It wasn't unusual for the neighborhood hooligans to ride their dirt bikes down the street after 8:00 p.m.—an event that had pissed off quite a few neighbors and their pets.
I hollered for Chase to settle down and turned my attention back to the game. He stopped for a moment before starting up again, this time whining and whimpering louder than before.
Frustrated, I got up and called for him from the top of the stairs. That's when I noticed he was cowering in front of the door. I had never seen him scared like that before, which concerned me.
I made my way to the door and peeked through the peephole. For whatever reason, I half expected some horrible, demented face to be staring back at me from the other side.
What was there was almost worse.
I couldn't make out many details, but there was a dark figure wearing a hoodie that obscured their face. The weirdest part was that the figure stood perfectly still, like some kind of statue looking back at me. I could also see something in their hand, but it was too dark to tell what it was.
Every hair on my arms stood up. I locked eyes with Chase and mulled over what to do next. In retrospect, the obvious thing was not to open the door, but I wanted them to just go away.
I told Chase to sit and looked through the peephole one last time before opening the door.
To my surprise, there was no one there.
You might think that would have been a relief, but to me it was like that joke about the spider in your house not really being scary until you no longer know where the spider went.
I made my way around the house, sneaking looks through the blinds to see if the person was around the side or back of the house, but there was no one.
After a few minutes, I finally convinced myself that whoever had been out there was gone and called Chase upstairs. I shut him in my office while I went to the bathroom.
I had just started my business when I heard Chase start barking again.
I remember thinking at that moment that getting robbed while you're doing number two had to be one of the worst times.
I sat there, hoping Chase was just worked up from earlier, when I heard a shoe squeak on the stairs.
I desperately wanted to believe my girlfriend was home early from book club, but deep down I knew that wasn't true.
I heard whoever it was stumble as they made their way to the top of the stairs.
I fumbled for my phone as they stopped in front of the bathroom door.
I was doing my absolute best to stay quiet, but anxiety had not done my stomach any favors.
I clenched every muscle in my body, praying it wouldn't betray me.
I was literally fighting for my life in that bathroom.
Then it happened.
My body let loose.
I watched as the feet on the other side of the door slowly backed away.
The person hesitated. I could tell they were processing what just happened. Then they began to cough and quickly made their way down the stairs.
After sitting completely still for at least thirty minutes, I finally mustered the courage to look around.
When I didn't find anyone in the house, I called my girlfriend and explained everything. She confirmed that she had not come home early from book club, but she refused to believe I had scared someone away simply by farting. When I finally convinced her I was telling the truth, she insisted that I hang up and call the police.
I questioned whether or not to call the police. My worry was that they'd either think I was making the whole thing up or, even worse, believe me, and I'd forever be known at the station as the guy whose flatulence prevented a home invasion.
After the most embarrassing phone call of my life, a patrol car showed up. I explained what had happened, and the officer informed me that there had been a string of burglaries in the area and that the suspect was considered armed and dangerous.
He cracked a smile when he said,
"I guess you are too.”
#entertainment
source
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