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Male Intruder Part II – OMD!


Despite my long standoff with the overbearing rules of my beloved Lake Shore Drive high rise I don’t always lock the door to my apartment when I step out during the day. Keys are bulky. There are 400 units in my building. What are the chances I will get burglarized? There’s a doorman and cameras – it’s safe. And if Fate catches up with me and I do get robbed …what are they going to take? Bongo my stuffed monkey? My uniform polos? My vast collection of $1 wine glasses. It’s fine unlocked…..most of the time.

I went out one evening to a happy hour charity event and it just happened to be near a great blues club so I had expected to be home by 8PM but it was closer to midnight. I had left a light on and came in and checked email and had a snack. I was just about to splash water to wash my face when I thought something doesn’t seem right so I snaked my way around the wall from the bathroom to the bedroom and what should my wondering eyes should appear but a man….in my bed!

There are so many scenarios where this would be a sexy surprise or a romantic maneuver gone awry since the man was very much sound asleep. But nope. I squealed and in a blink assessed that the sleeping man was much smaller than me and not menacing since he wasn’t conscious. In. My. Bed. I have spent the better part of last decade in fancy resorts and hotels so my tastes in sheets and comforters runs high end. Despite the fact that I can literally sleep anywhere – which I attribute to a childhood spent living in a household of nine where every other member was five plus years old than me. And my Bath and Body Works consumption means the bedroom smells delish.

Who the hell is this person? In. My. Bed.

I follow up my squeal with a tougher bark and a hard swift foot to the middle of the unknown male drunk lump. In. My. Bed.

I move the sheets with my kicking foot and I recognize my small, old, FURRY, does-his-laundry-in-denim overalls-with-no-shirt- so-full-chest/back-hair- is-displayed, gay neighbor. Ok the situation has gone from scary to something less than scary. He is not moving and I am out of plans to get him to move. I go to the hallway and call the Buiding Nazis at the Front Desk. I explain the situation and they send a maintenance man. By man I mean a kid who is smaller than me although probably the same size as neighborly sleeping beauty. Maintenance doesn’t speak English and I don’t know how to say ‘intruder’ in Polish.

What’s the next move?

Of course I have checked Chicago’s Finest off my dating wish list. And yes he’s Irish. There’s an O in the last name and everything. He works overnights in my district so I send him a text. He calls in thinking mine is a party call and with one teary sniffle I have my own personal police department on the way.

SIX CPD show up. They are unclear if I am the victim or the perp of this crime scene. That gets cleared up when they flashlight their way into the bedroom and rouse my intruder. It was my choice to arrest him or not. (For being drunk and sleepy…would rather not throw a stone in that glass house – thank you very much)

Finally, let me just vaguely suggest that CPD showed excellent concern for my peace of mind for the rest of the night and offered to … ahhhh .. ‘help change the sheets’ Full service – I like it!

BONUS Male Intruder III

I bought a new dishwasher. The young, fit, cute, tall guy who delivered it says “Listen they give me 90 minutes to install but I can get it done in 15 if you want to spend the time…..otherwise….”
I told him just the dishes were dirty but thanks!

  1. Mary Gilham permalink

    That’s too scary for words … I would have been out of there in a flash. Wow u r braver than me by a long shot.

    Sent from my iPhone

  2. brucebblake permalink


    Date: Fri, 24 May 2013 16:21:51 +0000 To:

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