Vandalism and hate crimes, or: How Being A Night Owl Saved My Life

So.  Pretty sure most of you have gotten in on my second move, ending here living with the two really awesome gay guys.  I’ll give more details on that at some point if needed, but that’s not why I’m posting tonight.

I’m posting because I’m alive.  I’m alive because I was awake late, long after [note: name redacted] and [note: name redacted] had gone to their beds — they go back to work tomorrow, and needed sleep.  I’m alive because I was awake to see the freshly-lit fire that had been set in the birdbath outside my bedroom window, close enough to the front of the house that within seconds I could see the flames licking against the building.  I’m alive because I ran down the hall, banged on doors, called out that we had FIRE! and alerted the other two in time to take a big, old blanket and smother the blaze.

I know it’s pointless to dwell on “what if?” questions, but I have to at least consider that if I’d been in bed around 11:45 when I first felt tired, if I hadn’t been fucking around with a wallpaper project in Photoshop, chilling with some relaxing music, if I’d gone to sleep… I might likely have not awakened until the flames had started into the wall — the wall against which my bed rests, where I might have been choking on smoke as I startled awake, or worse, slept though until the fire itself was on me.

Granted, I’d seen some headlights slow down near the house at some point during the night.  I dismissed it as a rare but still possible car down the street, and got back to work.  No clue what time that was.  It wasn’t until I had decided to finally shut down the desktop and get to bed, when I had sat on my matress to turn off my laptop, that I heard someone peel out, and looked up to see the orange flickering glow just outside.

I also noticed that, after taking care of the fire, there was no mention of calling the police — from what I gather, “Vallejo’s Finest” aren’t often big on helping out with this sort of matter, but I could just be picking up the “dissatisfied customer” bias — someone who’s had a great experience somewhere will likely tell you about it if you ask, but those who went through hell are only too happy to share the misery, and keep you from going through the same.

Well, I really ought to try to get some sleep now.  Supposed to be headed back to Fairfield tomorrow…

Comments, please?



One Response to “Vandalism and hate crimes, or: How Being A Night Owl Saved My Life”

  1. Who can say what we’ll find, what lies waiting down the line? | Σαφικος Σοφια Says:

    […] There have been very few — three, as far as I can recall. The first was when I heard that one of the guys I lived with had died from, apparently, pneumonia or bronchitis or some other lung-related problem, […]

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