Watermelon & Worries: The essentials for any "alleged" home break-in?

It was around 6:30 this evening that I decided to jump in the shower and relax. I spent several hours at the hospital this morning, where my grandfather was getting triple bypass surgery, and after all went well I needed to unwind. Keep in mind, I was home alone.

So I'm in the shower, where one obviously goes when they want to cleanse themselves, and I heard my dog barking. I figured someone was home and then heard someone walking up the back staircase in the house; it is my brother, I thought. I was wrong!

So I get out of the shower and nobody is in the house so I figured it must have been the wind or one of those things you fucking use as an excuse, which is rediculous in its own right, but I carry on. So about 30 minutes goes by and I get a call from my dear and near friend, Mare. We are chatting about my grandfather's surgery, how much we hate our lives, people who give stingy gifts, relationships, suicide; you know the usual every day things you would talk about, and I look over into our kitchen and see the glass sliding door, which leads out to the deck, fucking wide open!! Wide open like a hooker's legs! Wide open like the fucking vault at a bank after its been robbed. Wide open like the mother fucking Saranghetti in Africa ... and I freeze like a fucking ice cube.

I wanted to yell "help!", call 911, send up a Goddamn smoke signal and all I could do is stand in place. I inform Mare of the situation and she, like any good friend, gets nervous for me. No, I am not going to get nervous over this. There is a perfectly good explination. I am going to be a man, stay in the house, check out the scene and give any mother fucking I see that don't belong a beat down. Then, my dog looks towards the back of the house and begins barking; I ran out of the house like a little screaming bitch and never looked back!!

I am outside talking to Mare, making phone calls, pleading and imploring someone for help. I call my mother and father who are still at the hoispital. They tell me to call my neighbor ... and to make a long story short my neighbor's boyfriend comes to the house ... packing heat.

Cocked and ready to go, this mother fucker ain't foolin' around, he has a pistol in his hand. All I wanted to do was have a fucking relaxing night and eat the watermelon that was in the fridge and now I was creeping behind my neighbor as he look in every closet, kitchen cabinet, under beds, in showers, etc.

In the end, there was nobody in the house, but that is not to say someone wasn't prancing around while I was so innocently going about my business upstairs.

I could have been the victim tonight -- but then again, aren't I always?

I may never know why that slider was open and unlocked ... but thanks to Mare's persistence in having me get help, I can sleep in my bed tonight instead of a body bag ... A DI DI!!!