NOTE: I had only been living there for 2 months… if that:
I had stayed up far too late, so I was half asleep as I rolled out of bed at 5:45 am. All I could echo in my head was, “Val, don’t forget to grab your purse out of Sean’s truck and put it in the car.”. Apparently I was moving in slow motion or something because as I sat there copying files to my Portable Drive I realized it was close to 6:30 pm.
I opened the passenger side of the car, readying myself to grab my purse and even head back for the toddler. My eye catching something blue, I found myself digging out a sippy cup I had missed lodged under the passenger seat. Thoughts of it being one with sour milk were creating fears in my mind as I hunched over into the Sunfire. Crap, I hope it isn’t one of the milk ones that I somehow missed. This is my roommate’s car… Val you know better. Fearing I would forget what I was trying to remember all morning, and the toddler was still eating his breakfast inside, I walked over to the truck to grab my purse. Opening the driver door my heart skipped a beat. Where the hell is my purs- oh wait, it’s in the back under the front seats. Closing that door I open the one behind the driver side. Grabbing up my purse I left the truck and headed back for the car. As I got half way there- SCCCCRREEEEEEEEECCCCHHHHHHH The sound of a large vehicle power sliding to a stop behind the cars shattered the calm morning air. I jolted from the sound and my eyes catch a silver F150. Not just any F150… this one had fully armored SWAT team members spewing out of the back of it with M16s shouting at me. I was still in shock and half asleep. After the second, maybe a third, round of shouts I registered what was being said, “GET BACK IN THE HOUSE! MA’AM GET BACK IN YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOW!!!”
I stood there between the cars blinking to myself. My body jerked to move, but it was baffled at which way I should go. My eyes were locked on the passenger side of the car… that was still open. They were screaming at me, guns ready, goggles on, black regale but all I could think was I need to shut the car door.. durrrrr.
My step toward the car was greeted with M16s pointed at me and more shouts, “MA’AM!! PLEASE GO INTO YOUR HOUSE AND DO NOT COME BACK OUT!”
I stood there, still staring at the car door as the SWAT van now screeched up next to the F150, pouring out more militia. Finally, since I was still struggling to move over the car door, I squinted my eyes tight, hands still raised in the air as I screamed back, “PLEASE SHUT THE CAR DOOR FIRST!”
Apparently I was going to make a trade of actions?
The man with the bullhorn looked at me baffled. Two soldiers looked at one another and shrugged. With a nod from Bullhorn man, they shut the door of the car.
I immediately ran back in the house, slammed the door shut, locked it, and leaned against it trying to catch my breath. I was not breathing during the negotiation, I think. My room mates and husband come out of their rooms. Seeing my paled expression they asked, “Val, what’s wrong? What happened?”
Gasping for air I told them what I could, “TRUCK, GUNS, CAR DOOR.”
TRUE STORY… NO JOKE.