Mary and I exchange emails almost on a daily basis, and ever since she has moved into her new apartment, she’s been paranoid for some reason that she’s going to be murdered there.  It’s not that she lives in the ghetto, because her apartment complex is cute and charming, so I don’t really know why all of a sudden she’s become concerned about someone wanting to take her out.

When we lived together in 2622, she used to spy on the neighbors all the time.  In fact, many afternoons while I was slaving over my accounting books, she would take many breaks from building her “junk box” to peer out of her blinds and see what was going on in our “neighborhood”.  She kept tabs on the Mustang that would be parked outside our apartment for weeks at a time.  She kept tabs on when the girlfriend of a neighbor across the street would visit, who we referred to as “Nooner”, no explanation needed.  She kept tabs on Mr. Brewer, the Project Family and last, but not least, J9 and her daughter “Abbie”.  Which reminds me of the stray cat, Elvis, she would let in our apartment… “Is the kitty in there”?

My point in all of this, is that Mary is like a little spy.  A detective.  A Nancy Drew.  She sent me an email this morning detailing the events of last night, when she thought she was really going to be taken out, and the way she writes not only sounds like a detective (see words highlighted in bold), but also makes me laugh.  So I had to share…

So last night I woke up to the sound of a man’s voice saying “Is it upstairs or downstairs”? Um… do you know how much I thought I was about to get robbed/kidnapped/violated by people outside plotting at 2:30 a.m.????????? I hopped out of bed, put on my spectacles, and peered out the window all the while thinking how quickly I could get dressed (and what I should wear) and what kind of weapon I could quickly grab. Turns out, it was Medstar coming for the little old man below me! Stretcher and all. I heard them mentioning chest pains, so I don’t think it was anything too serious… they weren’t moving fast and he was completely coherent. I side-stepped my first murder attempt, it appears.

Two things… grams, if you are going to get murdered/raped, does it really matter what you are wearing?  Also, chest pains could be serious, I hope the little old man is okay.  Have you named him yet?

UPDATE: After I responded to Mary’s email telling her I found this situation entertaining, she wrote back…

Grams.  I was so serious last night.  I even thought so far as to: take cell phone (after calling 911)… then I debated about car keys because I would want to get away.  But then I thought it might be hard to do if they were blocking the doorway.  THEN I realized I could not leave Mazie behind!  Thank goodness this was not the situation; I would have needed to pack and do too many things in a critical time!

It just keeps gettin’ better!