Friday, January 18, 2013

Self defense



Every night before going to bed, I check and double check the locks on the front door.  I was glad I did last night, as around 2:30 a.m. I heard the doorknob being turned.

Despite the fact that I knew both locks were secure, I lay in bed stiff with fright.  Who was that?  What did he want?  If he managed to get in, what could I do? 

The question how would I defend myself stayed with me for some time.

I don’t sleep with a gun, a knife or a baseball bat within reach.  As for the pen being mightier than the sword … I don’t think my Papermate is going to do much damage.

My son has a sword, a Highland design, but it’s not sharpened.  Besides, the thing is so heavy, it takes considerable effort just to lift it,  never mind swing it.

I remembered a friend of mine who, back in South Africa, slept with an ax under her bed.  But axes are so messy and I can’t stand the sight of blood.

So the pen being mightier than the sword might be my best option.  If the burglar has the time, I guess I could write him a story, so boring it would send him packing or lulls him to sleep.

Then again, it might not have been a potential burglar, but simply a drunk or confused soul trying to get home.  I had a similar experience a couple of years ago.

Coming home after a long, hard day at work, I got off the elevator two floors too soon and found myself on the 9th instead of on the 11th floor.  I didn’t notice, because the paint on the walls is the same, as is the carpeting on the floor, and the doors to the various units.

Having arrived at the corner unit, I put my key in the lock, but for some reason the key wouldn’t turn.  Strange.  I tried the doorknob, but no luck there either. 

When the door was opened by a strange woman, I thought, “What is she doing in my apartment?”  Then again, this didn’t look like my apartment.

“May I help you?” she said.

I stood there, frowning and gaping at her like a fish out of water.
That’s when I noticed the number on the door – it said 909.  Oops.

So, maybe last night’s visitor was my downstairs or upstairs neighbor, who now has a similar story to tell.


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