It’s no secret that the city of Detroit has issues, right? I mean, you almost don’t have to live here to know that, especially with the crime rate. The depression didn’t help and has only been compounded by a mayor and city council interested only in maintaining their power and authority over the good of those who live in the city. Want proof? Look at their continued actions. In any case, all of this has led to a hemorrhage of residents leaving the city. And accompanying some of these people out is a criminal element. Believe me, we’re finding out. The flat where I reside has had an influx of new folks from downtown. Some of them have turned out to be incredible neighbors! And some of the rest? They’re the reason why a ten year streak of having no problems ended last Thursday when someone tried to break in to our flat.
I’ve had friends who have been robbed before, only I never entirely understood the feeling behind it until last week. I came home, somewhat absentmindedly realized my doorknob and lock felt loose, and didn’t come back to investigate until a few hours later when it occurred to me that something wasn’t quite right. Sure enough, someone had attempted to pry up the outer cover around the knob and lock, only they weren’t entirely successful. They managed to loosen things up, but there was no way they were getting in.
My first thoughts were: What did they want? What were they after? I don’t have that much, so what in the world could they possibly be looking for? And then it hit me like a brick. It doesn’t matter what they were looking for! These moth3r humping sons-of-beyotches had NO business even trying to get in! Our things are not for them. They’re for me, my husband and my family. I don’t care where you come from, I don’t care what your skin color is and I don’t care how much you do or don’t make; you are NOT entitled to my shit. And that seems to sum up some of the problems with people today. They feel entitled. I don’t get into their business, so they need to stay out of mine.
This really brought out an unusual hostility in me. I want to believe that most people are good. I want to think that when it comes down to it, people are going to do the right thing. But there are those few who muck it for the rest. Too, you’ll find this a little difficult to believe, I’m a pretty private person. I’m loud and boisterous online, in social media and even in these blog posts. However, when it comes to my husband and my family, especially socially, there’s a very clear separation. I don’t do much socially. We don’t have people over for dinner and we don’t go to many dinners. Between his schedule and my time with dad, what little time we have is spent doing other things to maintain what we have.
The thought of having someone trying to get in to where I live is bad enough. I can only imagine how I’d have felt to know someone had walked on our floors, touched our belongings, searched for what they thought might be valuable or destroyed something, anything for the sake of it. They didn’t get to do that this time. And yet this nonetheless serves as a wake-up call that perhaps I should start feeling a little less secure about my home. If someone had really wanted to get in THAT bad, we’d be having a very different conversation right now. What they did was just a test. It was a warning. I’ve listened.
I never thought about alarm systems before. I have now. I never thought about taking additional precautions beyond that. I have now. What developed out of this was essentially a three pronged attack of the problem. Stage one was completed the following day. Why? Because I wasn’t sleeping and every noise I heard that night woke me up. Not healthy. Stage two arrived yesterday. Stage three should be handled by tomorrow. And if this doesn’t help me sleep easier, nothing will.
The funny thing is that much of what I consider valuable doesn’t have any real value to anyone else. It doesn’t always even have value to my hubby. I know. He almost threw my collection of Fangoria Magazines out once just to annoy me. It would have worked, then I’d have gone online with his credit card and ordered replacements. I think it was his revenge for me leaving them in the bathroom for him to find when he goes in there. He always looks for something to read.
But we’re safe for now or at least a little safer. I don’t relish the idea of having to take money away from my Blu-Ray budget to secure a place that shouldn’t need a huge amount of security (except from spiders…because those little bastards need to DIE DIE DIE). It annoys me.
Anybody else ever been annoyed by something like this?
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Kage Alan is the Terror Train watching, Vangelis listening author of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation,” “Andy Stevenson Vs. the Lord of the Loins” and the first book in a separate series, “Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell.” Despite the sheer number of pokes and prodding, he did not attend GRL this year. Maybe next year. Maybe. He really needs to write a romance before he attend Gay Romance Lit. It would have been a heck of a time, especially dodging stalker Patricia Logan, only I never would have gotten any rest. Next year. Maybe. I need to get through OutlantaCon and DragonCon first. Oh, and the MotorCity Comicon.



Salon.com
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