26 Aug


The story starts with me sitting at home on a Friday with my roommate, preparing a list of non perishable items to obtain from the grocery store, not knowing someone was watching our apartment.

 1/2 an hour we were away, food shopping in preparation for Hurricane Irene. Filling our shopping cart with jugs of water, batteries, hostess snacks… you know, the essentials.  We were prepared for anything. Except, of course, for the fact that someone was climbing ontop of cars in our driveway in order to hoist themselves onto our balcony and attempt a break in. There was no way for the intruder to know what apartment we were coming out of unless they had been watching us from the window.

 Katie and I return from the supermarket, patting ourselves on the back for having opted out of the delivery service, giving us the one piece of exercise we would see all week.

“LET’S WATCH CORRINA CORRINA!” I shout with excitement after we put all the groceries away.  We cuddle up with the cats and begin the natural courtship of Ray Liotta and Whoopi Goldberg, drying our eyes at the little girl searching for her dead mother in the bathtub. Then…
“Why is our screen open?” Katie asks.

There are two doors to our living room from the patio: A flimsy little screen door and a glass one that has a broomstick in place, locking it tight.  The screen door was wide open and neither of us had it open. The night before, I distinctly remember having our glass door open to get some air circulating inside the apartment, but both doors were closed tight before bed and neither of us (in addition to our 3rd roommate) had opened them.

“That’s weird.” I thought out loud. Then Katie walked into her room and stopped dead in her tracks.

“Pam, my A.C. unit is gone.” Katie had used her A.C. this morning and there was her window, barren.  I looked back towards my bedroom and the door was closed. Had I closed it?

Panic set in. I felt that distinct feeling all horror movie actresses feel when they realize the call is coming from inside the house. And I am no virgin, which probably meant I wouldn’t survive the movie… according to the rules.
We immediately ran upstairs, in hope that one of our neighbors had accidentally locked themselves out and were merely just trying to get into the building.  (We’ve let each one of them in at some point during our term of residency.) The neighbor simply said “Nope.”

We called the police.

Moments later an undercover cop car pulls out and Riggs and Murtaugh exit the vehicle.
They were definitely undercover, so I asked “Are you cops?”  Upon seeing their gun holsters, Katie was secure. I, however, needed a little more proof. I’ve seen Catch me If you Can.
You can’t fucking fool me. They flashed their badges. They were cops alright.

They came up stairs and searched all the rooms. When they opened my door they confirmed “Someone definitely ransacked this room.”

I lowered my head in shame, “No… that’s… that’s just my room.” I had been ferociously searching for an outfit the night before, so clothes were everywhere. In addition, I was currently searching on Craigslist for a cheap filing cabinet as I sacrificed my desk in our “June Move”. So needless to say, there were papers everywhere as well.

The bulky police men moved their attention to the living room to check out the patio door. I continued to explain, “See, none of us had touched that screen door and Katie used her A.C. this morning, so this literally happened while we were at the supermarket…”

“You might want to put your weed away.” Officer Krupsky stated before stepping out onto the balcony…

Yup… there it was. My bong sittin’ out on the table with an adorable, heavily illegal bag of… sandwiches… resting beside it that I didn’t acknowledge during the panic of: Rapist in house! RAPIST IN HOUSE. You f*cking idiot. A clear violation of SCREAM rule #2. Think, Pam… think. I thought about yelling “I have Cancer…” But,  I just didn’t feel right about it. Instead I said, “Looks like… looks like the guy broke in and… and left a big of weed on the coffee table… and a bong.” I’ll just… I’ll just throw that out immediately. (Note to self: When you’re expecting police officers to come into your apartment, MAKE SURE YOU HIDE YOUR ILLEGAL SANDWICHES YOU MORON!

The A.C. unit was on the ground of the balcony and we all assessed that as they attempted to get into Katie’s room, the unit fell out, made a loud noise and scared them away as nothing was taken.

They said some things into their walkie-talkies like… “That’s a 2-81. Roger!” Which I assume means “That’s a pigsty of a female, idiot who left drugs on the table. Copy that.”

We were extremely lucky that neither of us were hurt and that nothing was taken but, regardless… we were pretty shaken up about it all.  I have a terrible right hook.

My cousin suggested that we cut open the belly of Craig Jr., because the perpetrator is probably inside there.
 Man I need a hit…



  1. Eddie 2011 at : #

    I was way too distracted by the awesome movie references to truly understand the fear of what you went through. Hope you’re alright though.

  2. Jess 2011 at : #

    Ah, a pain I know all too well. I am SHOCKED that your room was in an unkempt condition. Did the cops find vegetables, per chance? seriously though– F*ck robbers.

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