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6/13/2004 6:04:01 PM

Worst Tour de Apartment, ever.

Look, I know I said that I'd never return, but, I have this story. Those who hate me will love it, and those who like me(if there are any), will end up laughing. I know I am, now. So, there's this chick at work who I would have considered an acquaintance until last night (read on before assuming, jerks). Let me start over - I work for a business company and am currently making trips to all around town. I've come to know many a civil clerks at these business's because, well, I do alot of talking to different people. The youngest chick in this office (there are no guys) is 22, and is quite hot. Our discussions began with her having someone find out my name, because nobody knew my name...just who I was when I came up to the building. Anywho, the hot chick and I conversate generally twice a week or so. Once, a couple of months ago, we got on the topic of where one another lives. Turns out that she lives right down the street from me. During one of our discussions about a month ago, she mentions that her husband is ridiculously insane when it comes to her and having guy friends. Apparently, I am the first she's had since being with the guy as a result of his jealousy. Well, yesterday I went for a workout after I got home from work. My roommate and I were walking back from said workout when we see my other roommate, Christian, trying to -blam!--rig a car door open. As we're walking up, Christian points out that my friend came to see me. I had no clue who it was, but there she stood...the hot chick. She'd locked her keys in her car the first time that she had come to see me...unannounced, no less. Hence, she's getting really nervouse because she doesn't want to pay a tower to get the door unlocked, as it would show that she locked her keys in her car at a location where her husband wasn't familiar with (yeah, psycho). After the tower unlocks her keys, she asks me to follow her to her apartment because she wasn't feeling well. I believed her, because she just locked her keys in her car and hadn't been at work for about a week while out sick. So, I agreed to do so. When we got to her complex, she invited me inside. So, we go up to her apartment. She tells me that she'll show me around a bit, which is odd - how big can an apartment be and why couldn't I just walk around and look at stuff? She tells me she needs to call her husband and let me know she's home...because he'd called her 4 times in the 45 minutes that we were waiting for the tower. He doesn't answer his phone. She tries from the apartment phone (used the cell phone initially). No answer. The guy is supposed to be at work until midnight, but she called his work and they said he was on "lunch". Well, he works in Moscow, and we live in Moscow. She asked me why he possibly wouldn't answer his cell phone, especially while being on break, and I reply in a joking manner, "Because he's on his way here as we speak!". The irony proved to be thicker than Kyle's(my stupid friend) shaven skull. The guy walks in the door not 30 seconds after my foreshadowing comment. I'm standing in the middle of the living room because I was playing with their dog...I hadn't even taken off my shoes. This guy (who is smaller than myself) looks at me and squaks, "Who the -blam!- are you?" I said, "I'm Scott". He said, "What the -blam!- are you doing in my apartment?". I said, "Playing with your dog." His voice escalates at this point, as he turns to his wife (the hot chick) and yells, "What the -blam!- is he doing here? Who the -blam!- is this guy?" I'm thinking..."We've been through this!" She tells him that I am a friend from work. He retorts that he's never seen me at her place of business, and I chime in with, "That's because I don't work at the there. I work for a different place on the other side of town." Well, there was stillness and silence for about thirty seconds after this interrogation went on. Anna (the hot chick) breaks the silence with, "Somebody say something." As their dog was jumping up on my side, I retort, "You have a fiesty dog." I thought it was funny, Uri (the psycho husband) was not on the same page. He yells at me, "Get the -blam!- out of my apartment!" I looked at Anna as she shook her head and hesitated, because I knew she was scared. He yelled his phrase yet again, and I began moving towards the door, which Anna had already made her way to. When I get to the doorway right next to her, she grabs onto my arm with the Devil's grip. I'm not sure what provoked him, perhaps the grabbing of the arm, but something set this guy off. He suddenly darts into the kitchen, and we hear him slamming things around. I'm thinking, "What the hell is he doing?" My question was answered as he ran around the corner with a knife! He was only a couple of feet away when he turned the corner, so I didn't have time to do a damned thing. This knife is not small, either - it's as long as a butcher knife, but not quite as wide. He's holding it like a jackass...his fist balled around it and the knife blade horizontal to the ground, pointed at me. He shoves the fist with the knife towards my chest as he reaches around and grabs my shoulder. He applies pressure with the knife-hand, digging his knuckles into my chest and pressing the blade against my breast-area. He tells me, "Get the -blam!- out of my apartment, or I'll kill you," and commences shoving me out the door which Anna had opened in hopes that I would run. After I'm shoved out the door, I throw my hands up and say, "I'm gone," and I walk towards the stairs. As I begin descending them, he shoves me in the back trying to push me down 'em! I stabilized myself with the hand rail after stumbling down about half the short flight, turn around, and start dialling 9-1-1. He asks me who I'm calling, and I naturally retort with "The cops." Eventually they show up, get my statement and theirs, and tell me that I can press charges. I did what any sane person would and told them I would like to do so. At this point, it appears as though he'll be charged with making a "terrorist threat" rather than assault because I wasn't injured. A terrorist threat is the highest class of misdemeanor, while assualt is a felony. Either way, when the investigators call me and hear my story, he'll likely be arrested and put up for bond. Then we'll have a hearing, and he'll most likely go to jail if we do so. However, after talking to the attorneys about the incident, they say that I might be able to charge him with assault due to the pushing me down the stairs. I don't really care either way, I just know that GreenChief is not a fan. -blam!- hot chicks - they're always trouble! When this guy finds my address and shows up at my doorstep, which is clearly a plausible outcome of all this, I'll either go away for awhile on account of manslaughter or will be resting with the worms. I'd like to be cremated (spell check) and my ashes spread over where-ever Yonkers(friends from website) deem appropriate. I opt that we have a poll to decide. Oh, and what few belongings I have will be split between Lully and Pavel...and possibly my roommates (if they don't -blam!- my dead corpse in the -blam!- cavity). The night time is the right time...for being held at knife-point!
#Offtopic #Flood

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