Last night I was sitting at home reading the aforementioned book, when my ears caught the sound of blaring horns and muffled shouts. Then and there my spider sense started tingling and I immediately sprang up and instinctively crouch low and ran to the door. I caught sight of a green, shiny, minty, factory-fresh Ford Explorer making a hurried turn into the parking lot with doors already open and a topless guy sitting behind the wheels, and right behind the Ford our compound guard was running flat out, shotgun at the ready with his uniform unbuttoned and flailing in the wind. I instantly thought to myself, “Oh shit topless guys and running guards are never good signs of things to come.” The topless guy suddenly jumps out of his Ford screams at the guard to hurry up and grabs his orange shirt from the backseat. Right there I thought, “Hey, this might not be so bad, at least Mr. Topless Guy and the guard didn’t shoot each other.” With my spider sense still tingling I ran after the two and I was joined by our compound handyman who by the way was also not wearing a shirt, like me and the obviously shirtless Mr. Topless Guy. We made a beeline to Room E but before we even got to the door, we were greeted by a barefoot, knife wielding girl wearing a conservative light blue executive outfit, a shocked look and wide, empty, dark brown eyes. She was oozing blood from her head and she looked as if she either crawled out of the TV while a Quentin Tarantino flick was on or as if she survived the catastrophic shelling on the beaches of Normandy during Operation Overlord. She was a mess, her coat was soaked with bright carmine blood and she was surrounded by three topless guys wearing shorts and a half-uniformed guard with a cocked shotgun and a serious look, the four of us made quite an obscene and scary bunch.
I suddenly went from unsure bystander to former-nursing-student-with-an-expired-license-as-an-emergency-medical-technician mode. I pried the knife away from her hands, got myself nicked by said knife and asked her what happened, at the same time I was also scouring my brain for whatever knowledge I can retain about first aid, head wounds and EMT training. In mumbles and stutters she told us that she strolled in her room not knowing all the while that a burglar was hiding behind the door, the “black clad” burglar panicked when she came in, hit her in the back of the head with something solid and ran, she then fell over, tried to scream, picked up the knife instead and called Mr. Topless guy who a couple of minutes ago dropped her off. With that the guard and our handyman took off and tried to find the burglar, while Mr. Topless started his Ford up and I assisted Giselle (Ms. Knife Wielding Cutie) up on the SUV and watched them drove off. I then ran to the Land Lord’s house and asked them to call the police because our very own version of Fortress Europe just had its first taste of invasion. Within minutes five guys with guns (Two guards, Mr. Handyman, the Land Lord and his son) was all over the place looking for the burglar/assailant, a couple of minutes later about half dozen policemen and three more guards joined in the search, along with Mr. Topless’s friends three of which are also armed. It seemed as if only me and Ross (another boardmate) were the only guys out there who didn’t carry a piece. We had enough guns there to take over Iraq and Afghanistan. Anyways, to make a long story short, they caught the burglar/assailant who happened to be a clerk at the hardware right beside our compound, they found the gloves that he wore, the black long sleeves, the black shirt that he used as a balaclava to hide his face with, the black shorts and most importantly they found Ross’s Adidas sandals which was stolen the previous night. His roommate also testified that he came knocking at the door right after the commotion and that the previous night he also caught his roommate jumping over the fence to “supposedly” retrieve his Dart pins which “allegedly” made it’s way over the fence. His roommate also added that the “suspect” regularly steals stuff from him and he just can’t confront him because the “suspect” is the nephew of his boss and also because he is too scared, too small and too gay. (I didn’t make up the last part. Hehehe…)
I just hope Giselle wouldn’t leave the compound; she’s a breath of fresh air in this sausage feast that we call L. LLido Cmpd.
PS: Giselle was also robbed about a week ago. Don’t you just love her?
