I'm a paranoid person in general.
So last weekend, when Mikey and I came home to find a creepy man drinking a beer at our front door, I got a little nervous. It was 1am, dark and ghetto.
You'd be nervous too.
Saturday night, Lo came over and the three of us made dinner and sat in the living room, drinking wine and watching Zodiac. Around midnight, Lo announced she needed a "nap" and crawled in my bed, immediately passing out.
So, we're sitting in the darkened living room, watching this super creepy movie when all of a sudden, Mikey whispers, "Did you hear that?"
We paused the movie. And we listened.
Someone was outside.
"What do we do?
"Shit, I don't know."
Mikey slowly got up and peeked out the front door window, onto our dark stoop just outside.
"There's a guy there."
"Didn't you hear the can open?"
"I heard a beer can open."
Creepy beer guy was back. Fantastic.
Mikey flicked on the porch light and stared him down through the window in the door, attempting to look intimidating and potentially violent. Creepy beer guy waved and stumbled away.
Needless to say, that porch light and my trusty alarm will remain on for eternity.
God, I hate the ghetto...