Once upon a time, when I was still a young and sassy firecracker (as opposed to an old and sassy one,) I moved into a new house. I've moved about a billion times, so this should have been no big whoop. But things are rarely as they should be. This move, in particular, took a few days to complete. On the first day, I basically just moved whatever random crap had made its way to the front of the random crap pile. I also moved a couch, so I would have somewhere to sleep that night. Moving is hard work, and I was a lazy ass, so I called it quits around mid-afternoon. I jumped in my car rather spryly to make a run to the grocery store. As I backed out of my driveway, a man walking down my street flagged me down. I may have mentioned that I was young and thusly stupid. So, of course I stopped my car and rolled down my window. I was ten feet tall and bulletproof, after all! Anyway, this man asks me if I've got any spare change. I used to be a sucker for a sad story, so I gave him the approximately fifteen dollars in change that I had in my console. To paraphrase Daniel Tosh, "You hit the jackpot, mofo!" He was pleased with his unexpected windfall, and I left for the grocery store feeling morally superior to everyone I passed.
Fastfoward to that same night. I went to the store, and got myself some yum yums. Tired from my day of half-ass house moving, I ate and then retired to my bedchambers, aka my couch in my new living room. Around four in the morning, I was awakened by someone knocking on the front door, which happened to be right next to my head. And I don't mean a polite tapping on the door, or a "it's probably just a tree branch" situation. I mean a full-on "let me in the house because a monster is trying to eat me" scenario. I peeked out the blinds behind the couch, and who did I see but the same man I gave about twenty pounds of change to that afternoon. As we did not have plans to play bridge and have a spot of tea, this immediately sent me into panic mode. And what did I do in panic mode, you ask? Oh, just froze solid on the couch, and prayed that the man didn't come around to the side door which didn't have curtains. As he continued to pound on the door, I managed to thaw out one of my hands, and called my mother. She told me to stay still and quiet, and that she would call the police. But since I made it a point never to listen to my mother at this point in my life, I did the exact opposite, and began searching for a weapon.
At that point in my life, I didn't own a gun. I also hadn't moved any of my silverware or table lamps. Basically, I had nothing to defend myself with. Other than my samurai sword, that is. Serendipitously, a few days prior, I had passed a yard sale, and purchased myself a fancy schmancy sword. It also came with a board to mount it on for display, but I hadn't attached it yet. And this is how I found myself to be creeping silently through my home, with a giant sword held at the ready. I was absolutely ready to decapitate some intruders. Suddenly the knocking stopped. I don't know if the guy was able to see me through the window, and had second thoughts about assaulting a girl who defends herself with a sword, or if he just got tired of knocking. But a couple of minutes later, another knock at the door came. Thankfully, the man knocking identified himself as a police officer. Because I may have had trouble explaining myself for assaulting an officer of the law with a dull, ninja sword. And I think this story is entertaining enough on its own without having to add attempted murder into the mix. What say you?
