It's been a very long time since I've added to this dusty old blog.  I was blogging on copywriting, marketing and general writing stuff.  But let's face it; who wants to read about that?  What people enjoy reading is a good story -- true life, fictional, or even true life with, as Andy Griffith once said, "a little extra jam on the bread."  In any case, the best stories spring from real life, and those are the stories I love to tell. 

Well, the other night, I had one of those unique episodes of "real life" and just couldn't resist the primal urge to share.  Here's what happened:

It was a dark and stormy night. Okay, it wasn't actually "stormy," but it was fairly dark, and the wind was blowing more then really necessary. I was sitting at home, in my bedroom/office (please don't tell the IRS). I was alone, but for my pathologically timid dog, Casey. Being nothing worthwhile on the idiot box, I was flipping back and forth between the movie, Cursed and The Larry King Show. So I was already kind of creeped out.


At some point, I heard what sounded like a car door out front. I went to the front door, but found no one there. I looked out back where we park our cars, and no lights were on. The security light always announces returning family...and the occasional raccoon.

"Oh well, guess it was nothing," I said to Casey as if she cared. I returned to my room for more boredom.

I guess I got hungry not long after that, and found myself strolling into the living room. Before me, the front door had swung open. Now I was freaking out. I shot over and grabbed the phone off its base in preparation for trying to remember how to dial 911. In my nightmares, it seems that's always a big issue.

Nothing happened. Having not been slashed or decapitated, I finally calmed enough to, once again, return to my room. I decided to do a little web surfng this time. I resolved to stay clear of any of hotly contested political forums, as I was scared enough already.

A short time later, I became aware of water running in, what sounded like, our bathroom. That room is right up against my wall -- which isn't all that great acoustically, if you know what I mean. But it left little doubt where the sound was coming from. The flow sounded too rapid to be a drip, but not as if someone was actually using the water: kind of like when you turn off the shower and some water still runs out.

My ears perked up. For a moment, I wasn't sure what to do. Call 911? Look for a weapon? Running for it was out. I steadied my nerves and started timidly toward my bedroom door.

The sound gone silent, my fear turned slowly into curiosity. Then the thought of an over-flowing toilet or burst pipe crossed my mind.

"Oh crap, what am I supposed to do if it's that!" At this point, I had traveled a good three feet from my origin and had yet to exit into the central square that serves as our hallway -- the bathroom door just to the left.

I slowly rounded the bend to find the bathroom light on, but no sign of overflow or pipe damage. There was nothing wrong, but we almost never leave that light burning. I peered through the doorway, past a wall obscuring the shower. Someone had pulled the shower curtain closed.

In my head, "Norman...is that you?"

Hell no, I wasn't going in there to check it out! I need plenty of maneuvering room when dealing with knife-wielding psychopaths. Well, technically, I need plenty of room to maneuver all the time, but that's an argument I wasn't entertaining in the moment.

I headed for the living room, undocked the phone again, and opened the door to facilitate a quick exit. No, I am not a coward; I just like to keep my options open...and I bleed easy. I let ten or fifteen minutes pass as I sat frozen in mid-living room.

Thankfully (if not obviously), I was not killed. And I think Casey was starting to laugh at me at this point.

Spring ahead another half hour or so; everything was starting to fade out of mind. Suddenly, I hear the gentle tapping of Casey's claws as she stepped through the kitchen. Then...the flowing water sound again!

But wait. This time it wasn't a toilet/sink/bloody shower sound. It was more of a "slurp...slurp...slurp" sound. Then it hit me: that's what I'd heard earlier. It was Casey drinking from her bowl. I felt like such a dork, and had to laugh at myself for my foolishness as I turned my back to start surfing the Internet once again.

It suddenly dawns on me that this is the exact point in the movie where the wisecracking, non-believing, smart-alec gets a kitchen knife in the back of his immaculately white t-shirt. I spun back toward the door (to watch TV of course.)

Moments later, a bang echoed up from the backyard. Now I was just starting to get ticked off. Kill me or not; but quit messing with my head! I buzzed into the living room and gazed out the back door. There was no security light on, so it couldn't be anyone returning home. Yeah...back to the phone. But I was tired of quaking in my boots, so I returned to the bedroom.

Without warning, the back door opens with a bang!

This time, it really was my family, who had to wonder why I seemed so happy to see them home from their long journey to Walmart. It seems, "one of us" had turned off the security light.  My own (in)security light, however, was fully illuminated.

"So, anyone call...anything go on while we were gone?"

"Nah; just took in a movie."