on my" list of things to do before i die" (bucket list, if you will) you will find some random things - including 'get arrested'. Now, don't think i want to smoke pot or participate in grand theft auto or anything, i just think life is too short not to break a few rules every now and then.
in the movie "feverpitch" with drew barrymore and that cute funny guy - can't remember his name at the moment - drew's character gets arrested for jumping onto the field at fenway park and running across during the baseball game. she and the cute funny dude kiss, she gets on national television, she runs across a REAL mlb field. at the end of all that, the cops say, come on m'am, we have to take you in. she gets cuffed. totally worth it.
anyways, in the past year, i've had 911 called on me TWICE. first time was last april or may when i was in college station. i came home late to the condo - where my three lovely roommates were still living after returning from their internships in houston. they weren't used to me being around, but a lot of my furniture was still in my room and i was still paying rent, and i was in town for the night, so...
so i use my key to come through the front door of the CARE house, run upstairs and immediately jump in the shower. well, sweet rachel has forgotten that i was back in town and heard someone trying to get in. she was dogsitting for a friend and the dog was apparently growling through her door at me but i never heard it. she called the police and could hear the shower running. (apparently the intruder was going to have a quick shampoo and conditioner moment before stealing all of her money and threatening to take her life)
anyways, i get out of the shower to hear rachel talking to a guy and can see that the hall and stairwell lights are all on. i'm wrapped in a towel and the cops are at the door. they think we're all idiots. i feel TERRIBLE for scaring the daylights out of rachel and eliza. they feel terrible for thinking i was a mass murderer. oh well, funny story, hahaha.
funny if it happens once. twice, you start to feel like a creepster.
so sunday night after church, caitlin, bonnie and i went to dinner with the dc visitors - a fella named james, a dude named william, and a sister named lisa. somewhere in there i lose my key. trying to get into my house, i can't find the key. i don't have two of my three roommates cell phone numbers. (dont ask why, i don't really have a reason, and i already feel like a moron) i rang the doorbell several times before i called dr.katherine, feeling terrible to wake her up but it was 28 degrees outside and after 2 in the morning. she didn't answer though.
checked the front and back mat for a spare key. checked my purse again. tried to rip off screens off the front windows. finally tried the back basement door that no one uses just in case it was left open. i was worried i would scare my roommate that lives in the basement to death so i said "helloooo???" at what i thought was a loud enough pitch to be heard. this entire time i'm thinking no one is home because no lights are on, etc.
then a policeman walks through our back gate with his flashlight in the air. "hi..." i say. in my head i'm excited he's there because surely he'll let us in with his magic key.
"hello?" he asks, flashlight still in air.
"um, i lost my key. i live here, i'm so sorry, we just can't get in. i lost my key."
in my head i was thinking someone saw us trying to rip off the screens out front and called the police just be to safe. there's a bright streetlight in front of our house so anyone could have seen the attempted "break-in."
"you live here?"
"ya, can't find my key. i'm soooo sorry." two more policeman/women show up. "did you get a call from someone?" i'm beginning to think this could get awkward.
"you live here? [he picks up his walkie talkie.] dispatch, can you call them and tell them its a roommate? she's locked out. yes, its a roommate."
"oh my gosh, is someone home?" i ask, starting to realize i've just scared the crap out of a roommate.
"yes, they called about an intruder." the officer tells me.
"oh my gosh i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry."
"[walkie talkie again] dispatch can you ask them to open the door and let in the roommate?"
door opens. theres my roomie, in the basement, scared to death. my stomach immediately does flip flops as i imagine what fear i must have put her through.
"oh my gosh i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry." she laughs, says its fine.
i continue to apologize for a few minutes as i make my way upstairs. "goodnight, thanks for letting me in."
its a few minutes later that i remember the college station incident with the roommates calling the cops on me. maybe i'll have a disclaimer on the next lease i sign:
"WARNING: sometimes i attempt to break-in to my own home and a 911 call may be the end result. normally it ends just fine, with some embarassment, laughter, scared-to-deathness, and cops thinking you're all idiots thrown in the mix."
intruder? no. its just a roommate.