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* names changed to protect identities.
** Bolded section for emphasis
*** Person is ultra-liberal.
Got this from someone I work with. This happened to them.
Good Morning! I hope all is well…today is better than last night before dinner as my daughters and I were pretty shaken up.
Story…
D1 & D2 were in the kitchen making dinner, cutting up fruits & veggies for dinner…water boiling…chicken in the oven…knives everywhere. D1’s boyfriend, BF, left the house to go to his to get the movie 'Y' which was what we decided to watch after dinner.
I’m in the backyard drinking a beer…relaxing…watching the flowers grow and then I hear a man continually yell out, “Help me!” I thought he was one street over which has been known to be, uh, busy with weird stuff but his voice was getting louder. I peered around my back porch looking beyond my drive way and lo and behold was a 6’2” tall, 230-240 pound African American male walking through my back gate yelling, “Help me! They’re trying to kill me!!!”
First thought, “Remain calm, detached, and focused.” I scanned him as a machine at a store would scan a bar code and decided this guy was genuinely scared. Second thought, “Why me, God?”
I said, “Calm down. Now, who’s trying to kill you? Where are they?”
“They’re trying to kill me! Help me!!!”
“Now, just stay right there and I’ll check.” I didn’t see anyone chasing after him and I didn’t hear any commotion from the street.
“No. I gotta hide!!!” And, he ran straight into my house and locked the door with my girls inside!!!
Again, my thought was to remain calm and in control of myself…my angel must have been talking to me.
I saw him peering through my door window and I pounded on the glass and said, “Now, you let me in!” And he did!
All the while my dog is barking wildly at this guy but either was too damned chicken to start a fight or could visibly see he was very frightened, too. Anyway, he ran from one room to another yelling the same thing.
I calmly walked to him and asked if he’d like me to call the police and he said, “Yes.” So, I called 911 on my speaker phone and very calmly gave my address and the situation. During this time the guy ran into my bathroom and locked the door and my girls got out of the house.
The 911 operator wanted a description of the guy and I gave it to her. She asked me his name. I thought, “His name? Who the**!@!** cares what the he!* his name is, he’s in my house and locked in my bathroom!”, but I went and knocked on the bathroom door and said, “Uh, Sir, wh-what’s your name?” “Z" (or something like that).”
I went to the phone and answered the question and stated, “Please help me get him out of my house.” Then the operator asked, “Who’s trying to kill him?” My thought, “Who cares? The guy is frightened out of his wits! He’s like a giant 5-year old at the moment” So, I went and knocked on the door, again, and asked the question. He answered, “I don’t know!”
BINGO! The guy’s a lunatic! Again, my thought was, “Why me, God?” So, I went to the phone and answered the question and said, ever so calmly, “Please come and get this guy out of my house!”
At that point, the operator told me that a car was on the way and, just at that moment, my neighbor "Jim" (6’4, 240-250 lbs., tattoos all over, shaved head, white guy, drives a RT bus for a living) showed up at the front window asking if I called 911. I told him I was on the phone with them and the guy was locked in my bathroom. He told me to let him in, I did and the 911 op asked if I wanted to stay on the phone with her until the cops came and said, “No. My neighbor’s here to help.”
At that point, "Jim" told me to, “Are you F*#$”S crazy? Get the *!IUS) out!” So, I did, as "Jim" proceeded to darn near break down my bathroom door to get the guy out.
I went across the street to my neighbors and they rallied around my daughters and I and, as soon as "Jim" and another neighbor got the guy out of my house and pinned him down on my front porch, three sheriffs cars showed up and arrested him. As I understand it, they said he was a 26-50, aka, hallucinating (duh, you think?).
As I explained to the sheriff that I was just enjoying a beer on my back porch while my girls were making dinner for me when this happened, he said, “Well now, Happy Mother’s Day and congratulations! You just got another scumbag off the street!”
Then they went away with the crazy guy “Z” And, then BF came back with movie and we ate a wonderful dinner and watched the film. During dinner, though, there was talk on how they were expecting another boring evening at Mom’s. “What? My house boring?”, I asked….
Even later in the evening, when I went to start D2’s shower, I noticed “Z’s?” foot prints in the bottom of my bathtub. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW…
Now, could I have done anything better? No, I don’t think so. Other than getting out of the house faster but this guy was not a threat to me. He was frightened, not violent. Even my chicken-*** dog saw that.
But, I am considering buying a gun and learning how to use it – as well as my daughters…but still am not exactly sure I want to do that.
Anyway, that was my Mother’s Day…
I hope yours was, well, maybe not as intense as mine.
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** Bolded section for emphasis
*** Person is ultra-liberal.
Got this from someone I work with. This happened to them.
Good Morning! I hope all is well…today is better than last night before dinner as my daughters and I were pretty shaken up.
Story…
D1 & D2 were in the kitchen making dinner, cutting up fruits & veggies for dinner…water boiling…chicken in the oven…knives everywhere. D1’s boyfriend, BF, left the house to go to his to get the movie 'Y' which was what we decided to watch after dinner.
I’m in the backyard drinking a beer…relaxing…watching the flowers grow and then I hear a man continually yell out, “Help me!” I thought he was one street over which has been known to be, uh, busy with weird stuff but his voice was getting louder. I peered around my back porch looking beyond my drive way and lo and behold was a 6’2” tall, 230-240 pound African American male walking through my back gate yelling, “Help me! They’re trying to kill me!!!”
First thought, “Remain calm, detached, and focused.” I scanned him as a machine at a store would scan a bar code and decided this guy was genuinely scared. Second thought, “Why me, God?”
I said, “Calm down. Now, who’s trying to kill you? Where are they?”
“They’re trying to kill me! Help me!!!”
“Now, just stay right there and I’ll check.” I didn’t see anyone chasing after him and I didn’t hear any commotion from the street.
“No. I gotta hide!!!” And, he ran straight into my house and locked the door with my girls inside!!!
Again, my thought was to remain calm and in control of myself…my angel must have been talking to me.
I saw him peering through my door window and I pounded on the glass and said, “Now, you let me in!” And he did!
All the while my dog is barking wildly at this guy but either was too damned chicken to start a fight or could visibly see he was very frightened, too. Anyway, he ran from one room to another yelling the same thing.
I calmly walked to him and asked if he’d like me to call the police and he said, “Yes.” So, I called 911 on my speaker phone and very calmly gave my address and the situation. During this time the guy ran into my bathroom and locked the door and my girls got out of the house.
The 911 operator wanted a description of the guy and I gave it to her. She asked me his name. I thought, “His name? Who the**!@!** cares what the he!* his name is, he’s in my house and locked in my bathroom!”, but I went and knocked on the bathroom door and said, “Uh, Sir, wh-what’s your name?” “Z" (or something like that).”
I went to the phone and answered the question and stated, “Please help me get him out of my house.” Then the operator asked, “Who’s trying to kill him?” My thought, “Who cares? The guy is frightened out of his wits! He’s like a giant 5-year old at the moment” So, I went and knocked on the door, again, and asked the question. He answered, “I don’t know!”
BINGO! The guy’s a lunatic! Again, my thought was, “Why me, God?” So, I went to the phone and answered the question and said, ever so calmly, “Please come and get this guy out of my house!”
At that point, the operator told me that a car was on the way and, just at that moment, my neighbor "Jim" (6’4, 240-250 lbs., tattoos all over, shaved head, white guy, drives a RT bus for a living) showed up at the front window asking if I called 911. I told him I was on the phone with them and the guy was locked in my bathroom. He told me to let him in, I did and the 911 op asked if I wanted to stay on the phone with her until the cops came and said, “No. My neighbor’s here to help.”
At that point, "Jim" told me to, “Are you F*#$”S crazy? Get the *!IUS) out!” So, I did, as "Jim" proceeded to darn near break down my bathroom door to get the guy out.
I went across the street to my neighbors and they rallied around my daughters and I and, as soon as "Jim" and another neighbor got the guy out of my house and pinned him down on my front porch, three sheriffs cars showed up and arrested him. As I understand it, they said he was a 26-50, aka, hallucinating (duh, you think?).
As I explained to the sheriff that I was just enjoying a beer on my back porch while my girls were making dinner for me when this happened, he said, “Well now, Happy Mother’s Day and congratulations! You just got another scumbag off the street!”
Then they went away with the crazy guy “Z” And, then BF came back with movie and we ate a wonderful dinner and watched the film. During dinner, though, there was talk on how they were expecting another boring evening at Mom’s. “What? My house boring?”, I asked….
Even later in the evening, when I went to start D2’s shower, I noticed “Z’s?” foot prints in the bottom of my bathtub. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW…
Now, could I have done anything better? No, I don’t think so. Other than getting out of the house faster but this guy was not a threat to me. He was frightened, not violent. Even my chicken-*** dog saw that.
But, I am considering buying a gun and learning how to use it – as well as my daughters…but still am not exactly sure I want to do that.
Anyway, that was my Mother’s Day…
I hope yours was, well, maybe not as intense as mine.
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