It's not like fighting authority, with the washing machine you have a chance.
There I was minding my own business because that is what I do, when I heard a noise coming from the laundry room in my little house. Currently I "stay" as my friend says, in Ardmore, Oklahoma, a town of about 30,000 so it's not a dot on the map, but it more like a smudge. I was listening to the noise this morning, trying to determine if it was animal, plant, mineral or some kid that had snuck in the side door. I thought long and hard about it because it was dark outside, it was just before dawn and I wasn't quite sure where I had put my Kabar. For those of you who don't know, a Kabar is a long sharp military blade. My son gave it to me for protection as he knows I don't do well with guns.
The noise was thrashing, it was thumping, it was terrifying, but the most I could do was to generate all sorts of images of some sort of killer stalker guy who had managed to get into the side door but didn't know where the light was and he must be falling over the Bissell steam cleaner trying to find the interior door. OH, that's right, the interior door...was it locked? I couldn't remember? Shoot, if it was open the guy could eventually find it and open it. He'd make his way through Reuben's nasty bathroom and then find me on the other side staring at him with a potted orchid in my hands. (Raised over my head of course for better leverage in times like these) Where the hell did I put my stinking knife?
The noise stopped. I rushed the interior door before the bad guy could find it and I locked it. I locked the damn door! Then, because I'm this way, I went outside in the dark, pushed open the gate, went around to the side door and pushed the heavy deck table in front of it. THERE -- now the guy was trapped in my laundry room. If he were really small he could crawl through the dryer's vent, and maybe escape, but I doubted it. Me and my overworked imagination had tricked this S.O.B. so now there was only one thing left to do, and that was to taunt the guy. I called out to him, but you know they never answer.
Laura was asleep of course, she slept through last week's tornadoes too - - it's like her to be unavailable in these stressful situations, but at least I had a clear vision of where I had put the damn knife. It was under the bed between the nightstand and the bed frame. Ha, of course it was because sleeping with it could be a problem even if it was in its leather sheaf. I'm a dangerous dreamer you understand and I have three dogs in my bed at night, no need for accidents.
Back to the bad guy - - he didn't say anything and I wondered if I should call the police. What would they ask me, what would they think about me pushing the table into the door rather than leaving the house with my cell so I could call them. I did think about that, but like I said I have my daughter sleeping and the dogs....wait a minute...the dogs. Not one of my dogs was barking while the guy was trying to invade the house. They don't pass up an opportunity to sound off every day when the mailman comes by, recently they let him have it three or four doors down! They hadn't made a peep....sleeping! They were still sleeping! They didn't even get up when I went outside. I think Matrix followed me out of loyalty, but he wasn't really thrilled that he had to.
After a few clear minutes of going over it in my mind and conversing with the dog as to what his thoughts were, I went back inside the house and opened (cautiously) the interior door leading from Reuben's bathroom to the laundry room only to find that there was no bad guy - - unless he was that small and had crawled through the dryer's vent. The washer however, had managed to find its way closer to the middle of the room and I think I heard it bitch about something being inside of it that wasn't fitting correctly. I can blame Laura this time...she's the only other person in the house right now and it was her fat comforter slumped over to one side of the Whirlpool...I felt pretty stupid.
At least I know one thing; Matrix loves me.