So last night I bunkered down relatively early.(early for me these days). After I had a nice long hot bath I was ready to meet Mr. Sandman head on. A few hours(or so I thought) into a deliscious sleep I was awaken to the sound of my doorbell ringing continuously.
"Oh Shit,"I thought to myself, "I locked Scott out of the house."(This has been known to happen on occasion)
I didn't bother to put my glasses on. I ran down the stairs to the front door and peered quickly through the glass.
"Hmm...it's Al!"(Al being Scott's really good friend) I thought to myself before I opened the door.
(Bear in mind that I don't function well without the aid of corrective lenses...or being woke up mid sleep)
I opened the door and there was a drunk First Nation's person who tried to push his way into my house. Thankfully my largish rear end(I knew it would one day come in handy)slammed the door and I quickly locked it.
"He's trying to kill me!!"He yelled.
"Well go somewhere else then!"I responded.(aren't I a loving caring woman??)
"Please. Please. Phone the cops!"He pleaded.
"I have no problem doing that!"I yelled.
So off I darted to get my glasses on. Then I went rifling to find the phone book. (I'm glad someone's life wasn't depending on me!!) Finally I could make the call.
"RCMP how can I help you?"the officer asked.
"There's a drunk Indian knocking on my door telling me that he's getting murdered."I said.(FYI...my mother is Native...I can in a moment of stress say the politically incorrect word Indian)
"A drunk First Nation's individual is knocking on your door?"he said.
He then proceeded to ask me all sorts of questions. His description.
"Well ...at first I thought he was my husband's friend...but now that I have my glasses on I can see it wasn't him."
(I imagine the cop must have been wondering if my husband's friend comes over at all hours of the night??LOL...FYI...He doesn't!!)
I then peered out my bay window and gave a description of the person.(Oh Lord, how I thought he was Al...man, I'm blinder than a bat!!)
Then the guy started to slump over my railing while grabbing his leg. "Phone the cops..phone the cops. I'm getting murdered."
"Well I don't see anyone there murdering you!"I yelled back.
"There's no one else there?"The police officer questioned.
"I don't see anybody else?"I responded.
Then I looked out and buddy disappeared and suddenly I was friggen scared.
"Umm...where did he go?"I asked the dispatcher.
For a few quick seconds I had the worse sense of fear. I was told to double check that my house was locked(thankfully it was). I managed to count my boys heads along the way.
Then I waited for awhile until the police showed up.
They found the guy 3 houses down. Piss drunk. He said the guy who was trying to kill him ran off into the bushes. I'm not so sure there was another guy. Perhaps.
My question is...why my house??
The cops came back and wrote down my statement yet again. I bet I was a sight for sore eyes. My hair was sticking straight up. I had the ugliest paint stained white t-shirt on.
The one police officer was damn fine to look at. And this I knew for sure, because I had my glasses on.
So when I was telling Scott the events of the night before I said, "The doorbell rang. I looked and it was Al.(And Scott shakes his head cuz Al was at work with him!LOL)I opened the door and it was a drunk Indian(yes I know politically incorrect,except when said by a First Nation's person themself). I slammed the door with my large rump. Called the cops. He took off. Cops found him. Couldn't find the other. The one cop was hot...like really good looking..."
My Darling Husband replied, "Did this really happen? Sounds like one of your dreams."
Anyhow it really did happen....and the cop was really good looking.;)
2 days ago