The hallway where it all went down
So, where did we leave off? Oh yes, I was pissed that there was someone in my apartment. I could hear them in the hallway and I was about to turn the corner to face them. So I turned the corner...
Keep in mind that I am not afraid of whomever I'm about to confront. My adrenaline was pumping big time. In fact, I think I instinctively flexed my muscles or something. Kind of like when dogs and cats get that little stripe on there back when ornery. Either way, I felt somewhat scary although the reality of situation was probably quite different.
...and there he was. He wasn't a big dude. In fact, he wasn't initially threatening at all. He was wearing what I call "Summer Jeans" (baggy khaki cargo shorts), flip flops and a backwards hat. If he was there to kill/rob/rape me he was wearing the absolute best disguise ever. As soon as I took a good look at him I yelled (in my deepest voice (which is sadly not deep at all)) "Get The Fuck Out Of Here!" and he was obviously freaked out. Considering it was pitch dark inside the apartment and his eyes weren't likely adjusted I would suspect he couldn't see me. He gave a little startled jump and then immediately started towards the door. I took a step towards him and he said, "Oh, I'm sorry man... I'm sorry!" and ran out, closing the door behind him. I followed him to the door and locked it now fully aware of the absurdity that just had occurred.
I walked back down the hallway and looked around my apartment for any other prowlers that might be ready for me to yell at them and noticed Oscar sleeping in bed. Yep, that little punk who was so nice to have alerted me to the situation didn't think it was important enough to come be a badass with me. Imagine my young intruder's fright if a mostly naked man yelling at him was accompanied by a medium-sized, slightly intimidating dog who's only wish was to jump on him and awkwardly smell his crotch. Wait, I made it clear there that it would be Oscar doing the crotch smelling, right? Anyway, I can't say I blame Oscar for sleeping through the confrontation. He could probably smell the Hollister cologne on the dude from a mile away.
At first I thought there was no way I could get to sleep again after the excitement, but due to the non-scary nature of what went down it really only took me 15 minutes of figuring out how he got in. There were only two options... Either I didn't lock the door or he had a key. I got the locks changed the next day of course.
For a while I thought that the key thing was the likely scenario, but it wasn't a week later, still cautious about the whole person in my house thing, that I was headed to bed and thought it would be smart to check the front door for proper lockage. I even almost disregarded my better judgement, but finally relented and checked the door. To my shock it was unlocked. I couldn't even imagine a reason why I wouldn't have locked it the last time I walked Oscar but there it was. While I felt like a complete idiot it also left me a bit comforted. It was a stupid mistake on my part that allowed this to happen. I could live with that.
And now, a message to my very first intruder if he should ever find this blog:
Hi! I hope this post finds you well. I just wanted to say thank you for the great story you left me with. I honestly don't know what you were doing in my apartment but I have a few guesses. The most popular guess seems to be that you were drunk and went into the wrong door. The other guesses usually start with you looking for a place to crash and end with "wouldn't it be funny if you woke up in the morning and the dude was on your couch." I usually say, "yes that's funny", but secretly don't think so. My personal theory is that you were here looking for the suburbs. They're that way, buddy. If you're ever back in Soulard please don't hesitate to knock. I'll likely be much more clothed and hospitable.Your Possible Friend,Jim BarnthouseArch Observer