the day i was almost robbed or how i got my new crush.

i got home from oktoberfest at 1:30 am. walking up to my apartment, i could see through the window that the light was on in the bathroom and thought to myself, "duh. i can't believe you left the bathroom light on all weekend." when i put my key in the lock, the lock wouldn't turn. it was already unlocked! i thought to myself, "duh. i can't believe you left the door unlocked all weekend. you're lucky you're in switzerland where no crime has been committed EVER." i walked in the apartment and all the lights were on. "what a waste of electricity!" i thought to myself.

do you want to know how i finally knew that something was wrong? because i saw the vacuum standing in the corner. "well, sweetpagene, that doesn't seem so out of the ordinary," you might be thinking. but you see, that is out of the ordinary when you understand that before that precise moment, i was not aware that i owned a vacuum.

that's when i started to panic. and i saw the balcony doors were open and i live on the ground floor. instead of arming myself (with what, i don't know, my caustic wit, maybe?) i rushed to my computer bag to see if the one thing i owned of any value had indeed been stolen. (it hadn't)

after i settled down a bit and my heart slid back down my throat to my chest and i made sure that the murderer wasn't waiting in my bathtub, i put 2 and 2 together and realized that the cleaning guy must have left hastily in the middle of cleaning and forgot to lock up (and also finish cleaning). what a relief. OH MY GOSH!!! I JUST REALIZED what if he was here when the murderer came in?!?! and the murderer murdered him (like murderers do)?!?!?! and then the murderer hauled off his body??!?! and then came back to vacuum up the blood!?!?! and clean my bathroom!?!?!? and wash my dishes?!?!?!

that probably didn't happen.

so what about that new crush?

well, i have a neighbor upstairs. we'll call him batt stalker*. i got home from school on monday and batt was sitting on the steps waiting for me. he told me that he had spent all weekend worrying about me and wondering if i was dead on the road somewhere. he had noticed that my balcony doors were open and did what every tough guy would do: scaled my wall and came in the apartment unarmed (except for his disarming good looks, of course) ready to rescue me, but really expecting to see me in a puddle of blood. when he saw that my computer wasn't stolen he, too, realized that it probably wasn't a break-in and maybe i was just a little crazy for leaving all the windows open in freezing weather. he still worried, though, and spent the large majority of the weekend watching out his window for me and checking my apartment. isn't that sweet? (and borderline creepy?)

i thought it was precious. especially when his voice cracked a bit in telling the story. i told him that i had figured the cleaning guy had been careless (or murdered) and that all was well. batt said, "yeah, if i hadn't been scared that you'd been attacked in your bedroom, i probably would have come to the same conclusion."

that's what love does, folks. it makes you so scared for the safety of your true love in the hands of imaginary murderers/robbers, that all reason and logic fly right out the window...the bathroom window, because it was left open...by the murderer/cleaning person.

and that is how i got my new crush.


*not his real name...but close.