Social Unrest Hits Home. Again.

Saturday, even after a very lovely day of BBQing and pokering and general merriment, our little love nest was once again invaded by some jerks. Beer had been flowing steadily since 4pm so we had some people crashing out in our guest room which is why, even though I currently sleep with a knife under my mattress ever since the robbery, I wasn't immediately startled when I was awoken by a noise at 3:30am. At first I thought perhaps it was one of our guests causing the banging noise. But the banging continued and I became increasingly concerned (and awake). I tried to wake B. who had only recently finished expelling the beer of the day. I asked if he heard the noise. “Uuuuuuuuh”, he responded. So I said I was going to check it out myself. Again, I thought it was just a pre-ordained house guest, so I wasn't too worried about it. I was just going to see if they needed some help!

But as I left the bedroom, I saw both house guests slumbering soundly in the guest room. This gave me pause and I grabbed my knife. The sound had been coming from the basement and the light was on, but I think it had already been on from our rad band recital earlier. Anyway, as I walked down the basement stairs, I noticed a draft and then I saw that the basement window was utterly shattered. There was a broom handle sticking through the window, so I ran back upstairs and peeked into the back yard. I didn't see anyone there so I went back upstairs to the bedroom and woke B. up, all the way this time. I told him what I'd seen and this seemed to aid in his becoming more lucid. Unfortunately we were both still a little drunk. Nevertheless, he grabbed a bat and we both walked around the house looking out the windows. I saw that the gate was open and surmised that a person entered through there and used our broom to smash the basement window but, having seen me running down the stairs, possibly even seeing the knife, decided to take off.

In the morning, we learned that they had also stolen our solar lights that lined the front walkway and brutalized our mail box. I was pretty freaked out. B. only slightly less so.

After our guests departed, we decided to call the cops. I didn't think to call them when it happened because a) the person(s) were already gone and b) last time, the cop that was dispatched wasn't a very big help so I didn't feel like dealing with someone who wasn't going to be helpful at 4 in the morning.

When the cops arrived, we showed them what had happened and they came to much the same conclusion that we had. Someone tried to break in but, for whatever reason, changed their minds. One of the cops, who looked like this:

gave me a bit of a lecture about brandishing a knife. He said that in most cases, the weapon is taken away from the homeowner and used on them so it's better to be unarmed. He also gave us some advice on how to beef up security. We were already working on getting those curtains put in so we don't live in as much of a fishbowl. We are also going to get some motion sensor lights and a security system. His advice for next time (considering this is the second home invasion in 3 months!) is to stay upstairs and call 911 right away. I see his point. If the perp hadn't seen me, he might have stuck around and the cops could have come and nabbed him. On the other hand, I'm less than enthusiastic about lulling a perp into my home with a false sense of security, on the off chance that it takes the cops a while to get there. Either way: WFT?!

I'm just starting to realize how exposed we really are. In the event of a zombie epidemic or other apocalyptic scenarios, House of B.P. must be evacuated for higher ground. We will immediately head to the homes of our friends in second floor or higher condos. Or maybe we should build a moat.

My co-worker mentioned that crime is up everywhere due to the recession. I can understand that. Seeing as how we didn't get our pay checks on Friday, I know that money is tight. And there's always desperate people in the world, but it's shitty that it was us again. And so soon.