I told CK my CRF story and she said that I am avoidant, just like my Personality Disorder Test said. This may explain why no one ever drops in for a visit…yet, if it were possible, I would live somewhere so far out that I wouldn’t have to see anyone at all, unless I wanted to. Then I’d drive in to town and overhear the hushed whispers about the Crazy Old Woman that just comes to town for groceries and to pay for her broadband internet access.
One time I had some work done at the house and the workman left his ladder outside. The ladder stayed out there for weeks, so I finally brought it in and put it in the front hallway. It was a nice six-foot fiberglass ladder that came in handy when I needed to change light bulbs. Anyway, one night, the workman showed up and said I still owed him money for the work he’d done. I told him I had the cancelled checks. Then I realized the drunken bastard was tanked out of his skull and was just going to keep standing on my porch. I told him we were squared up on the money, and that he needed to get his ladder. He insisted I owed him $600 (twice the amount of the work that had been done), and he barged in to the front hallway. He swerved a bit and I told him to get out of the house; that I’d bring his ladder to him outside. He refused to leave. I told him he needed to leave the house and just come back in the daytime. He wouldn’t budge.
Meanwhile, I considered the placement of the handgun and regretted having put it, unloaded, in a locked cabinet in the kitchen. The bullets were in a separate location. I went to the kitchen, got that large kitchen knife and the cordless phone. I walked back to the front hallway and told my ex-workman that I was only going to ask him once more to leave and then I was going to call the police. He said he was staying put and that I didn’t scare him.
I dialed 911 and waited for the answer. Finally, someone picked up and said, “911-what is your emergency” I said, “There is a man in my house and he will not leave.” Without missing a beat, the 911 lady said, “Is he kin to ya?” I told her no, he wasn’t “kin” to me and asked what difference that made. She said it made a difference to the officers as to whether they were dealing with a “true” intruder or “just” a domestic violence situation. I told her I could have already been attacked by this time and asked if she could please send an officer. I half-expected her to ask me to put him on the phone, as they probably knew each other and might strike up a conversation.
The officer came and led my ex-workman away. He was to be charged with public intoxication, disorderly conduct and trespassing. Then they passed his car and the officer noticed there was a child inside. The officer asked if the boy was his, and the asshat said he was babysitting his nephew. The officer asked where the parents were and was told they were at work. Incredibly, the officer apologized to me and said he couldn’t take the man in, because the local facilities didn’t have any accommodations for juveniles. Instead, he escorted the man back to his house! He let him drive home while the cop car kept watch so he could get home safely!
Thus, I learned that I live in one of the smallest towns ever; and that if you intend to commit a crime, take along a kid.