It's nice to know that there are friends you can call at 02:00 that will be there to bail you out of sticky situations. It is also comforting to know that these friends have learned to take me with a pinch of salt - I'm no easy force to contend with, and those that survive my rough seas find themselves in a highly respected circle of closeness that can only be claimed through sheer understanding of how its magic works. So it is, that I have one such friend who has offered his services as an-on call knight in shining armour! I don't consider myself someone who needs to be rescued, but paranoia at the hands of assault in my own bed has led me to appreciate the luxury of having an escape route when the need arises, as it dually did.
My flat is laid out with my bedroom against the passage that runs along our L-Shaped block, allowing me to be in tune with even the most secluded of noises that issue from below. Our gate has a padlock, and the front door merely slides open, unable to lock. This is a sound I have grown accustomed to in the wee hours of the morning when my housemates come home from their nighttime activities. Last night was no exception. Lying in a state of medium sleep I heard the familiar fumbling of the lock, the door slip open and movement in the passage. Fear struck like a cold brick with the stark realisation that no one had left the house that night, and that both roomies were sleeping snugly in their rooms.
Instinct has saved my life once before, so I picked up my phone, turned it to silent and sent a message to my knight as I heard the familiar sound of a zip, and of movement in my lounge. Listening to the bangs and the attempts at keeping quiet by the unknown impostor, I let know that there was someone in the house, and that I was stuck. Shaking, to say the least, I rolled over to pretend I was asleep, listening for the sound of a car, and a police siren.
True to his word, I was met within 5 minutes as the gate buzzed open. There was nothing for it but to leave my room to release the intercom, where I noticed the state of my front door. Locked from the inside, padlocked. Closed. I ran through a quick check of the house and went out of the front door to be met with quite a sight. There stood my knight in the downstairs car park, flanked by no fewer than 15 armed policemen, the bomb squad and a curious neighbour!
Realising my submission to paranoia, I apologised as they surrounded the building and came to my flat, where I had to politely tell them that I had been mistaken, and that everything did indeed seem in order. As I was speaking, I happened to glance over my shoulder back into the flat, only to see one of these officers shining a torch on my sleeping flatmate. Sometimes, these things happen. I sent everyone home, thanked my knight and returned to bed, hoping that it was a dream, or that, to save my sure embarrassment, everyone involved would wake to wondering whether or not the late night prowling of my flat block had in fact been real.
I have the nicest flat mate there is. This morning she brought me a cup of coffee on her way out, and politely asked if there had been anyone in the house last night because she had thought that someone had shone a torch on her, but wasn't sure. As I explained the story in full detail, so she began to giggle. Unbeknown to me, a mutual friend of my 2 housemates was sleeping over in the flat, and was due to arrive in the early hours of the morning after a night on the town. She had been a little tipsy, which explains her trouble with the lock and the banging, and had also unzipped a bag to find her pyjamas.
Looking back, I know that I have at least one friend to call at 02:00, and think that I should perhaps offer to buy him lunch for his efforts - there are not too many people that organised at such ungodly hours, so I'm quite touched. The whole story ended in a fit of laughter over morning coffee, when Jana politely passed the comment "Well, at least we know you have the flats security sorted!"
I can't say that I don't have an interesting life.
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