"You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me."
-Clive Staples Lewis

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Oh here's a little nibble of my past. I hope it's not too salty.


I found this as I was looking for my resume on my USB drive. I had forgotten about it. It documents the events of February 1, 2009. Enjoy.


Feb 2, 2009
GUNFIGHT AT VALLEY ACRES
Last night was a bit scary. I awoke at approx 3:30 AM, from some interesting but forgotten dreams to the sound and feel of a gun being shot in the room underneath me. I was confused at first and adrenaline rushed through me. My hands went to my body, frantically searching for a wound, nothing. I had the urge to run to the window, where I heard someone scrambling out of the window directly below mine. Within seconds, I deemed that going to the window might be a foolish gesture. I am amazed now at my thoughts in the early AM. I realized that whoever flew from the window could have either been the shooter or worse, the shot. My mind raced with thoughts of murderers below me cursing their luck that I was right on top of them. I imagined them realizing their mistake and soon rushing to my door and dealing with me. I was frozen for I do not know how long now. I feared any movement would betray me to the thugs below. As I sat there on my couch, an image from the Guy Ritchie movie, “Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels” kept entering my mind. The scenes in which the “heroes” listen in quietly to the gangsters next door deal out drugs and plan evil schemes. My mind also went to my newly met neighbor, Chuck. I wondered if he was home or not. What were all the other tenants thinking about this time I wonder? Maybe we would all get the same thought and race out into the halls together and defeat the usurpers of our peaceful slumbers! I don’t think Chuck would be up for that. All this was thought of in such a short time. I was trying now to decide now to call the Police or not. Waves of doubt showered me of maybe jumping the gun and calling wolf. I didn’t want to bring cops here for something in the kitchen exploding. My mind started to forget what I heard. I wasn’t sure anymore if what I heard was a gunshot and weather anything had crawled out of the window below. Yet I knew what time it was and how loud and obnoxious these people were below usually. I had smelled the fragrance of illegal substances and partying creeping up from the apartment before. My mind was telling me “drug deal gone badly.” My fear of the shooter staying in the apartment began to grow. Why if someone was shot here, was the ambulance not arriving? Yet I did not move. Was I to be the victim of fear and imagination? I waited. I crept silently finally to the bathroom to relive myself. Since as I was sitting there, I realized how badly I needed to go. I dared not to flush since that might awaken my foes senses below. I returned to my silent vigil of sound. Eventually, mind you I don’t know exactly when, I laid down and waited. I believe I drifted off and awoke to different lights dancing on my walls. I spend the first couple of nights in a new place studying the surroundings. I had memorized how the lights lay against the walls in my kitchen/living room, and the beams where different now. I sat up, drawing in a slow and hissing breath. I inched towards the window. Silently I breached the blades of the blind. My shoulders relaxed and my stomach released its inner and unknown tension. There in the road and in the driveway of the apartment complex sat two police cruisers. Now I hold no love or hate in my heart for police one way or another. I feel that most citizens view the police force as comforting and wrathful as the servants of the Greek and Roman gods. For the most part we avoid them and their coming brings pangs of anxiousness and fear to our guts. Yet when we are in dire need and want, we relish their coming and rejoice for them as if we had been found by our long lost fathers. Right or wrong, this is what I feel most people, including myself, feel about our police force, and maybe we are right sometimes and I am sure we are wrong mostly. The feeling of rescue was my thought as I gazed out my window.
For the next hour I watched the police out my windows search the area for some clues or evidence. I took this time to text a few of my male friends who would care but not freak out and told them in short the situation. Only Flinkman replied. So thanks Jake, for either being up or waking up. I heard voices in the hallway outside and went to my door. Cigarette smoke was making its way into my place. I looked out my peep hole and could see that there was a couple of people, a guy and girl for sure by their voices, out there smoking like chimneys and talking with a cop. I started picking up what was said. Apparently someone came over that night to the party pad who the tenants did not know very well. Then I think a fight broke out and the stranger pulled a gun a discharged it and fled out the window, very slowly by the sound of it. Criminals in Des Moines are not as smooth as Chicago ones. Anyways, the cops stayed watch and I decided it was time for bed for this sacredly cat. It was 5 am now. My body had woken up quite a bit by now but was finally calming down. So I poured a stiff one, put a golf club close where I could reach it and went into some more interesting but forgetful dreams until 10 am.

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