i wonder what heather fong's batman signal is...

My father's response to everyone getting shot mere steps from my front door was to buy me two cans of pepper spray.
Because apparently one can blind a guy, but two can stop bullets.
These are probably famous last words, but I'm not that freaked out by the constant gunfire surrounding me, even though MY BAR is closed tonight due to all of the dead bodies littering the sidewalk. If I'm out late, I'm taking cabs, which mean I've only got a bullseye on my back from the street to my front door and if I'm walking, usually to Dirty (or perhaps now, Dead) Thieves, I'm with Big Chris. And of course, nothing could happen to me if I'm with Big Chris, right?
"Chrissy, if someone shoots at us, will you leap in front of me and take the bullet?"
"No. I'd use you as a human shield."
Even the other night, up at 4am reading my latest serial killer book, I heard what was obviously a gun shot. Not firecrackers. Not a car back firing. A gun shot.
I calmly took out a piece of paper, noted the time and approximate location of the sound and went back to my book. My roommate John is mere steps away, should he need to race to protect us and I enjoy thwarting crime after the fact.
This crimewave has prompted John to stop sleeping with his window open, as open windows require our house alarm to remain off.
"Fine, John. Sleep with the window open. Just promise that if someone breaks in, they kill you first."
"Oh sure, Beth. Of course. I'll just explain, 'Listen, dude. You've, uh, you've got to rape and kill me first. We have this deal. So let's get this over with.'"
The window is now closed. The alarm is now on.
Anyway, I'm not seeing what the big deal is. So people get shot, oh...about once a day within 3 blocks of my home and So no one's been...what's the word? Oh yeah. Arrested.
I ain't worried. I have two cans of pepper spray. I'm fine...