I just moved back to my old neighborhood in July. I am renting a townhome for the time being. There are six units in my building and we all have our own garages that open to the alley. When I go running, I go in and out through the garage so I don’t have to bring keys. I just use the keypad.
This past weekend, I went for a run. Fine, it was more of a jog than a run. Geez, okay, it was something between a brisk walk and a slow motion awkward canter. I don’t like to run. Unless it’s my mouth. I can’t canter my mouth. If there were a canter club, I’d totally join it. It might be called Polo but I don’t own any colorful shirts with alligators on them. Although I like the idea of whacking balls (easy Beavis) with a mallet. I think that is called croquet. But croquet isn’t a very good workout and that, my friend, is why I’m not in a running club – because running isn’t cantering and playing croquet won’t help my efforts to be in good shape.
Anyway, I did my 5K route and arrived back home at the alley to my garage. My garage door is in the middle of the bunch. I walked up to it and immediately saw that my keypad had been ripped off the wall. All that was left was some blue tape. Why in the world would someone rip off my garage door keypad? I didn’t have a key or phone and I began thinking about how’d I get in my house.
My unit is on the second floor and there are balconies on the front and back. I knew if I could climb up to the balcony I could bust through a screen since I leave my windows open in the front. Or the back has a sliding door and that would be easier to get in if I left it open, which I couldn’t remember.
I looked to the neighbor’s unit to see about a way to climb up the building using their patio chairs and holy shit, all their stuff was gone!! Their patio had been cleaned out!! I was still flabbergasted as to how all this could happen in a half hour and then wondered if someone broke in my house. I don’t lock the door within the garage that leads inside my love shack. Should I call the cops? But I didn’t have a phone. And I don’t even know my neighbors.
Screw it, I’ll bust out my Spiderman moves to scale the building and then karate chop any bad guys in the neck if they are in the midst of stealing my grill. I stepped back to the other side of the alley to size up the building and look for my path up. Something didn’t seem right, besides my ripped off keypad and the naked patio next door.
I looked to my left down the alley. To the next block. And saw my building. And my alley. One block away to the west. I was in the wrong alley at the wrong garage door next to the wrong neighbor’s patio.
I am losing my mind. Thank goodness I didn’t break in, right?