Attempted burglary, keys and an envelope of hundreds
My house is in a different town than my work office. So every Monday night, I drive 120 miles from near Sacramento to San Jose, spending the night in my condo on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I've been doing this for over ten years, now, and it's worked out just fine.
When I pulled in to my spot last night around 10pm, one of my sort of stoner-looking neighbors who seem nice but with whom I've never spoken called to me from his balcony. He said that Saturday night, about 2am, his girlfriend had come home and seen a guy trying to break in to my condo. We talked for a bit more and he described him as average looking, kind of short hispanic man. I thanked him and went up to see if my door had been broken.
Instead, on my door mat, I found a crumpled white envelope and keys. I let myself in to the condo, grabbed my shotgun from the place I keep it, pumped a shell into the chamber (a sound that is unmistakable if you've ever heard it even once) and start to do a sweep of the rooms in my condo, thinking, 'man, I've got to get a pistol because it's pretty awkward trying to enter a room with a shotgun in any way that would prevent an intruder from simply knocking the barrel to the side and attacking.
No one there. So I un-chambered the shell, made sure the safety was back on and went out to check the keys. I picked up the envelope and saw in large pink marker, the words "Humberto $510. Abril/26/14"
Through the plastic window of the envelope I saw money. I opened the envelope to see five one hundred dollar bills. Heart pounding, I put the money back in the envelope, wondering what the hell to do, wondering what the hell was going on. I tried the keys. None fit in my lock.
So. What's going on? It's the next day and I'm up here in the condo, writing away on the third book, having a Hoegaarden. I fully expect to hear the outside stairs pound with footsteps and someone to come back, looking for this envelope of money. Wait a second. There's a knock on my door now.
When I pulled in to my spot last night around 10pm, one of my sort of stoner-looking neighbors who seem nice but with whom I've never spoken called to me from his balcony. He said that Saturday night, about 2am, his girlfriend had come home and seen a guy trying to break in to my condo. We talked for a bit more and he described him as average looking, kind of short hispanic man. I thanked him and went up to see if my door had been broken.
Instead, on my door mat, I found a crumpled white envelope and keys. I let myself in to the condo, grabbed my shotgun from the place I keep it, pumped a shell into the chamber (a sound that is unmistakable if you've ever heard it even once) and start to do a sweep of the rooms in my condo, thinking, 'man, I've got to get a pistol because it's pretty awkward trying to enter a room with a shotgun in any way that would prevent an intruder from simply knocking the barrel to the side and attacking.
No one there. So I un-chambered the shell, made sure the safety was back on and went out to check the keys. I picked up the envelope and saw in large pink marker, the words "Humberto $510. Abril/26/14"
Through the plastic window of the envelope I saw money. I opened the envelope to see five one hundred dollar bills. Heart pounding, I put the money back in the envelope, wondering what the hell to do, wondering what the hell was going on. I tried the keys. None fit in my lock.
So. What's going on? It's the next day and I'm up here in the condo, writing away on the third book, having a Hoegaarden. I fully expect to hear the outside stairs pound with footsteps and someone to come back, looking for this envelope of money. Wait a second. There's a knock on my door now.
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