It is 6:45 a.m. A not-quite-awake-yet SEK exits his third-floor apartment to teach. As he plants his left foot on the ground floor, he notices THE MAN with an over-large screwdriver trying to pry the screen off a window.
SEK: Need some help?
THE MAN: I've got it under control.
SEK: (suspiciously) What's going on?
THE MAN: Lost my keys. (shrugs innocently) I live here.
SEK: (drowsily) No you don't.
THE MAN with the Costco-sized screwdriver locks eyes with him. For the first time SEK understands what sleep deprivation may have wrought . . . but the thought twinkles out of consciousness as quickly as it had entered when a door on the floor above slams shut. THE MAN and SEK look at the landing above and listen to the footsteps.
MAN: (sheepish-yet-somehow-still-threateningly) Seems I got the wrong apartment. I live (points in a direction roundaboutly away) over there.
THE MAN ambles menacingly away and SEK resumes walking to class. Seconds later it dawns on SEK that he may have confronted AN ARMED BURGLAR because he'd been half-asleep.
SEK: (aloud) He may have just done what now?
It seems your luck may be improving. Pre-PhD SEK would have gotten shot and then discover students having sex in his hospital room, but only after the ambulance charges him for a ride because his health insurance was accidentally canceled by the library.
So, things are looking up!
Posted by: Tom | Thursday, 19 March 2009 at 04:39 AM
Where's this guy when you need him? http://acephalous.typepad.com/acephalous/2008/09/ha-ha-not-funny.html
Posted by: JPRS | Thursday, 19 March 2009 at 05:27 AM
he notices THE MAN with an over-large screwdriver trying to pry the screen off a window
Why not as he notices THE MAN with an over-large screwdriver trying to pry the SCREEN off a window
SCREEN Help me SEK! Help me! You're my only hope!
MAN Can it, scrappy; only one of us is walking out of here alive, and it won't be me!
SEK Huh?
Posted by: Karl Steel | Thursday, 19 March 2009 at 05:33 AM
'SEK was grateful for the weighty heft of the cricket bat in his right hand -- so long as he carried that, no punk-ass thief was going to mess with him. "Silly mid on muthafucker," he cried, launching himself at the cowering crook.'
Posted by: Adam Roberts | Thursday, 19 March 2009 at 05:45 AM
I like Adam's response. Whether true or not or whatever, aesthetically you should have turned to another beat once he said he lived "over there." Or maybe you were just too sleepy. . . .
Posted by: Cutter | Thursday, 19 March 2009 at 11:55 AM
It's like you people want me to be stabbed. (Or lie about it, which is the same thing.) (Only to you.) (And my credibility.)
Posted by: SEK | Thursday, 19 March 2009 at 07:50 PM
Are you sure he wasn't working for the psycho-parent who threatened to beat you up?
Posted by: Cassandra | Thursday, 19 March 2009 at 08:25 PM