A Vent...
Posted: Sun Nov 27, 2011 8:45 am
So, I'm out in the garage a little while ago, putting the parts for a Werewolf Shorty in the welding jig, and my wife calls my cell (there is no door between my house and the garage) to tell me that Sumdood just stumbled into the front window on his way to the doorstep, and is knocking on the door. She wasn't about to go look herself, so she called me instead. I went out the man door on the side of the garage, and poked my head around the corner, and there is this bald headed black guy standing there with his back turned to me. Shined my light on him (which didn't do much in addition to the motion detecting lights on the house), and hollered that he had the wrong house, and needed to move along. With his back still to me, he mumbled something unintelligible and I repeated a similar command. After a few more seconds of this, he said something about having been beat up. I told him I was calling the cops, and it was his choice whether he wanted to be here or not when they showed up. Went back into my garage and closed the door. At no time did he turn around to face me.
Called 911, gave them the run down and my address; they said they'd get somebody over as soon as they could. After they hung up, called my wife in the house and brought her up to speed, and told her to stay put in the bedroom. Sat down to wait. At one point, I thought I heard a car pull up and voices out by the street, so I poked my head outside, but apparently Sumdood was going door to door, and was on his way back across the street in our direction. Went back inside and locked the door again, called my wife and told her he was still there and to sit tight. Finally, my wife called me to say that the cops were outside, and after I heard them questioning Sumdood, I stepped outside, and one of the cops asked if I knew him. Said no; I was the one who called them, and if they needed me for anything, I'd be inside. Went back inside and waited some more. Finally, a knock on my door, and one of the officers said that he was drunk out of his mind, had gotten beat up somewhere, had no idea where he was, and they were taking him elsewhere. Thanked him and went back inside to try and get back to work.
Gave up after just a couple minutes and came inside to write this vent. I'm all keyed up and my hands are shaking a little. No way I'll be able to weld for at least an hour or two, which is what I am mostly upset about. I'm trying to do precision %$*&^ing work here and random drunk guys pounding on my door, and scaring my wife half to death really isn't helpful. That is all.
Called 911, gave them the run down and my address; they said they'd get somebody over as soon as they could. After they hung up, called my wife in the house and brought her up to speed, and told her to stay put in the bedroom. Sat down to wait. At one point, I thought I heard a car pull up and voices out by the street, so I poked my head outside, but apparently Sumdood was going door to door, and was on his way back across the street in our direction. Went back inside and locked the door again, called my wife and told her he was still there and to sit tight. Finally, my wife called me to say that the cops were outside, and after I heard them questioning Sumdood, I stepped outside, and one of the cops asked if I knew him. Said no; I was the one who called them, and if they needed me for anything, I'd be inside. Went back inside and waited some more. Finally, a knock on my door, and one of the officers said that he was drunk out of his mind, had gotten beat up somewhere, had no idea where he was, and they were taking him elsewhere. Thanked him and went back inside to try and get back to work.
Gave up after just a couple minutes and came inside to write this vent. I'm all keyed up and my hands are shaking a little. No way I'll be able to weld for at least an hour or two, which is what I am mostly upset about. I'm trying to do precision %$*&^ing work here and random drunk guys pounding on my door, and scaring my wife half to death really isn't helpful. That is all.
