The One Where I Tell You How I Almost Got Shot: TWICE.

It seems like lately I've been so busy trashing critiquing celebrities and taking care of housekeeping duties here on the blog that I've strayed a bit from storytelling. And I'm sure you've been missing my stories. Or not. But nevertheless I spent yesterday making a list of some things that have happened in my life that might make humorous &/or interesting stories. 

I have six of them.

 •Getting hired for my very first teaching job three days before school started as a 5th grade English as a Second Language teacher. (Fun fact - I do not, nor have I ever, spoken a word of spanish or any other "first" language.)  CHECK.

 •Having to move into a new house while on complete bed rest. As in, "in the hospital" kind of bed rest.

 •The time Husband and I had second row seats at a taping of "The Late Show With David Letterman" and the second guest was animal expert Jack Hanna.  And he had a snake. (Fun fact - I am terrified of snakes. As in "hyperventilate and burst into tears" kind of terrified.)

 •My three colonoscopies.

 •The time Husband and I almost got shot in a Dunkin' Donuts.

 •The time Husband and I almost got shot at a Best Western.

 scrrrreeeeech. Hold on. 

 This seems like a good place to start.


 The first time -

The year was probably around 1989. But I can't be sure. All the college years have become a big blur of stirrup pants and permed hair and White Zin as the years have gone on. And on.

 Here's a photo from around that time so you have a visual before I tell the story.

I wasn't kidding about the perm. Or the White Zin, apparently.

Husband and I had been dating for a year...two?... (again, the details have been blurred by the passing of over 23 years and as many barrels of Chardonnay) and were in the middle of studying for finals. For a change of pace (and obviously a donut) we decided to go study at the nearby Dunkin' Donuts one night at around 10:00.  It was a good choice, because I remember it being quiet and empty save for one other college boy studying at a nearby table. Plus, there were donuts. We sat at the counter for some reason, and after about 20 minutes the lone employee looked over our heads out the glass storefront and said something like, "Oh, shit, here she comes again."

Of course we followed his gaze.

And oh, shit there was a raggy and homelessy looking woman veering down the street, waving a gun and heading right for the door. And I wasn't thinking she was comin' for the sprinkled Munchkins. 

Now, for the re-telling of the chain of events that followed, I have to give you two versions - mine and Husband's - because they vary significantly and as this story has been retold over the past 23 years, have been the source of many arguments and bets over who's remembering it accurately (me), but whatever.

 Here's my version of what happened next (i.e., the truth) - 

*imagine everything I'm about to say in slo-motion, because that's how it always plays out in my head:

Husband and I see crazy and homelessy woman waving a gun over her head and approaching door.

Jump off our barstools and run to the back of the store, frantically looking for an exit. 

Other studying college boy runs with us.

By this time, crazy woman has entered the building and is shouting at the Donut man.

He's shouting back.

I discover an open door! A bathroom! Safety!

I run in, Husband and boy follow, I yell at them to CLOSE THE DOOR! CLOSE THE DOOR! and we crouch behind the toilet.

All three of us stay crouched and shaking on the floor of the bathroom for 12 or 80 minutes listening to the shouting (really it was probably only like one) until the Donut man comes and tells us it's okay, she's gone.

We run out and see that she has, in fact, left the building and is continuing her crazy walk and ranting and gun waving down the street, scoop up our books and papers and backpacks, make sure the Donut man has called the police, and run out the door as fast as our shaking legs could carry us.


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