Yes, a serious post. I had a meeting today with the state attorney's office that's prosecuting the guy who tried to break into our house. I got to leave work early, which is always a plus, and got searched and wanded by security at the courthouse. They confiscated my camera and nail clippers. For realsies. Because I might have used the metal file on the nail clippers to shank a judge or something and then taken a picture of it as a souvenir. I got a little ticket to reclaim my goods on my way out. My meeting went well, it didn't last that long. I basically corroborated the statement I gave the police the night of the incident and answered a couple of additional questions. Apparently the guy our thief tried to rob earlier in the day hired the guys who beat the crap out of him later that day. They cut his neck so deep it looked like they tried to cut his head off, and then tried to cut off his genitals. Somehow he was able to kick enough to keep them away from his goods. He has enough of a prior record that he may go to jail even with the attack. I may have to go in again at some point, so we'll see. Neat.
I was reflecting the other day on how much that guy has effected (affected? I'm drunk) me. I used to feel like I was basically safe. Like I could walk around outside after dark, or just be in the house with the door unlocked, and feel like I was ok. Now I don't go outside after I get home from work if I'm by myself unless I really need to for some reason. I lock my car doors the second I get in, whether I'm at home, at work, wherever. The other evening I walked from the house we were staying at to the restaurant where I was meeting Alfred. It took me about half an hour, and for all but the first 3 minutes or so I was on a well lit, busy road. I not only brought my pepper spray, I carried it the entire way with my thumb on the trigger, ready for action. It's kind of sad that my basic sense of security and really, my underlying feeling of trust in the world at large, is pretty much gone. Some guy randomly tried to break into my house while I was inside. It was totally random, had nothing to do with me, and if it happened once, who's to say it won't happen again? It's probably good that I'm safer now, but it's not like I was picking up hitchhikers and behaving in an unsafe manner before. I'm sad that I feel unsafe. It sucks.
p.s. Alfred made some hard apple cider the other day and we sampled it tonight. 3 sips in, we were both tipsy. Craziness.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
It's a shame that your sense of security is gone but if it makes you act more safely, I guess that's good. Be glad he didn't break in; a friend at work had that happen and boy did she feel violated. Imagine someone (other than Alfred) pawing through your underwear drawer. And what is it about affect & effect? I always have to stop and think on that one.
I was thinking about this whole incident the other day--home invasion is a huge fear of mine and I can't even imagine how it must feel. As good as it is that you can help the prosecution, so they really need to keep involving you and sharing the gory details? I feel like it's been enough. I'm glad you have pepper spray.
I have totally given up on understanding affect/effect.
I'm telling you, get non-lethal shotgun rounds and make a macgyver esq minefield outside your house.
Kath: Affect is a verb, Effect is a noun (usually).
Also, I am paranoid most of the time, so I would probably be a neurotic mess if someone tried to break into my house, although Kiel sort of gives me a false sense of security just because it's so provincial.
Post a Comment