…and all through the house / no musician was stirring / not even this louse.
As usual, I was in a coma with my head underneath the pillows. I dimly, blearily became aware of a distant pounding or kicking somewhere in the neighborhood. Cursing those pesky kids, I dove back into sleep.
But the pounding continued. Slooooowly it dawned on me that this might have something to do with me, since the whole house was shaking.
Suddenly I was awake and grabbing my glasses, scrambling for the phone in the kitchen. In that nanosecond that feels like eternity, I’d considered whether to confront the unknown entity at my front door with a variety of weapons I keep around the house. But I’ve had enough of these experiences to hear the advice of, most importantly, an attorney friend who sez, “Keep it for the police.”
I dove into the kitchen and grabbed the phone, trying to find the best place where I couldn’t be seen from any vantage point. 9-1-1, here I come. The dispatcher got the cops on the road before she finished asking me the bureaucratic questions, but I didn’t know that at first. Hence, my bewildered fury at being asked questions about myself when there seemed to be a crazed monster at my front door.
I grabbed my best knife from the kitchen drawer and huddled down into the shadows, trembling violently. My imagination was screaming that the wannabe intruder would come around to the back door, which would imply an even more serious intent to commit mayhem.
The 911 dispatcher stayed on the line with me. My terror did not abate when she said, “oh, yeah, I can hear him now.” Augh!
After an eternity of probably 3-4 minutes, the police arrived. They confronted an incredibly drunk man pounding on my front door. After I was sure the police had the matter in hand, I crept into the living room to eavesdrop on their conversation. The drunk thought he was on a completely different street, in a completely different block. The cop kept saying, “No, this is [my address].” I was like, “No! Don’t give him my address!”
One thing led to another and the drunk ended up face-down in my front garden, the cop pulling at his band of plastic handcuffs. Flashback to NYC when I was at the Republican National Convention and surrounded by cops with the same cuffs. Deliberate breathing brings me back to the present.
Eventually they (3 cop cars) got the guy into one of the cars and they took off. The dispatcher got off the phone, leaving me with shattered nerves. I popped every kind of tranquilizer I could, herbal and prescription, to try to calm down to go back to sleep. We had our debut at Lotus in fewer than 12 hours! And little time to sleep before then.
Eventually the terror passed and to sleep I went. I still start at loud noises and anything that makes the windows shake. I love my house but sometimes fear my neighborhood. And the Lotus debut went brilliantly. All’s well that ends well??