Bark, bark, barkaroo, bark, bark,barkarooo! I wake up.
Mike is already jumping out of bed.
Jada barks at night and usually we don't hear her over the sound machine but this night she kept at it. Still groggy and trying to fall back asleep as Mike begins his inspection of the house at 2:30 a.m, I hear him heading down the stairs followed by a, "What the Hell!"
He heard someone pounding on the front door. Jada is growling now--she's fierce for all ten pounds of her.
I jump up as now my heart is pounding while I'm thinking we have someone in the house. I look down the stairs wondering why Mike didn't grab the old Louisville Slugger that we keep under the bed before he went to inspect--how cliche is that!
"What is it?" I ask from the top of the stairs not wanting to walk down for fear I am not enough awake and would fall. "Someone is trying to get into the neighbor's house!" Mike says, "And I can't tell if it is the neighbor but he is wasted."
I'm intrigued now as drunk people can be fun to watch.
Over my exhaustion I make my way downstairs to look through the peep hole--It feels like Alice in Wonderland watching this stranger stumbling around. He puts his arms out, his keys in one hand, tilts his head like a dog does when you talk to it, then gropes at the keys with his other hand. Finally successful at grabbing one key on the chain, he holds it up watching them as they all come together and tries to guide them toward the keyhole, but dropping them before making contact. This happens over and over. Finally he starts knocking followed by more failed key attempts.
We're still trying to figure out if this is our neighbor, the lighting out there sucks. I look out the front window and see his wallet and phone at the bottom of the stoop. We decide to call the police as we can't be sure it's him and he is wasted so who knows how the interaction might play out. I look out the peep hole again and he has fallen over--all I can see are his feet now pathetically kicking at the door. His head and upper body must have been on their way down the stairs of the stoop. We wait.
Again he is on his feet. The police arrive. Two patrol cars, that's sufficient for one drunk.
"Is this where you stay?" one officer asks him. The neighbor turns slowly and mumbles through drool slurred speech something like "yes, my house." The officer puts on gloves to go through his wallet. "Have you had a drink tonight?" Drunk neighbor replies with sort of a proud giggle, "Yes, a few." He starts heading down the stairs toward the police. "I think you peed yourself too," the officer says. "What's your address?" Drunk neighbor gives the address of a few doors down.
Now we know who it is, safe. The officers help him home and I make my way back to bed. Mike gives Jada a treat and joins me and we try to take advantage of whatever hours are left before we have to get up for school. All I can think was thank goodness this was not on a test night!
