November 4, 2002
We had a bit of excitement here at the ever more appropriately named Treehouse of Terror last weekend. This is one of those stories that I'm sure will seem completely made up and unbelievable, but I promise you, I shall faithfully recount every single detail. I swear I am not making any of this up.
OK, so.
Last Saturday night -- this would be the Saturday before Halloween -- Keith and I stayed up to watch SNL, and then afterward, he headed off to bed with Zeke and I settled down across the hall in the office to do some surfing before bed. About twenty minutes later, I heard a weird crashing sound from the hallway outside our apartment door. This was weird both because it sounded like someone was trying to unsuccessfully mate with a lampshade, and because there shouldn't have been any sounds coming from out there, since our hallmates moved out the weekend prior. I shrugged it off momentarily, but then the sound got a lot louder and sounded kind of like it was coming from inside the apartment.
So I called out, "...Keith?", thinking that perhaps he'd got up to get a drink of water and tripped over the dining room table or something.
He called out, "...Jan?" From the bedroom.
OK, I thought, I better see what the hell is going on. I got up from the computer desk and started for the hallway, and just as I reached the office door, I looked up to see a guy. A guy who was not Keith. A guy who was not Keith, lurching down my hallway towards me. A guy who was not only not Keith, but who was dressed up LIKE A CLOWN. Facepaint, rainbow wig, the whole deal.
It is in moments like this that not your life, but rather every horror movie you've ever seen flashes before your eyes. Specifically, "Sixth Sense" and "Killer Klowns from Outer Space." Also a news story or two about John Wayne Gacy.
I reflexively slammed the (non-locking) office door in the guy's face and hit the deck, "in case he shoots through the door at me." Not maybe the most rational thought I've ever had, especially considering I didn't even see if the guy had a weapon or not, but rational thought had left the building approximately two seconds earlier. I yelled to Keith, "Call the cops!" I heard a crashing sound from the bedroom -- terrifying at the time, but later revealed to be Keith bolting out of bed -- and then Keith yelling, "DUDE! DUDE! You do not live here!"
Then I guess Keith escorted the dude out of our apartment, and I heard Zeke crying (from being awakened to his Daddy uncharacteristically shouting) so I came out of the office and went to comfort Zeke. Keith came back and reported that the SPD was already at the building waiting for the guy, so I guess maybe we weren't the first apartment he broke into on his drunken little odyssey. Keith also reported that the guy was carrying a fire extinguisher. Why? Who knows! I guess if you're going to bust into people's apartments while wearing a clown suit, you might as well have a fire extinguisher too. Why not? Apparently Keith asked him where he got the extinguisher from, and he said, "Uh... the kitchen?" Right, thanks.
The friendly officer who came up to take our statement after detaining Insane Clown Posse said that the guy was so drunk he didn't even know what city he was in. Or from. They had to get his address from his driver's license. I guess he came to visit a friend for a Halloween party, got smashed off his ass, left the apartment for some unknown reason, and then couldn't find his way back again. That part at least is semi-understandable, as every apartment in this complex has an identical layout. What I'd like to know is what kind of jackass "friend" this guy had who let him leave the apartment in that condition anyway. I mean, he had to have been wandering around the parking lot for awhile before he came into our building. Was he planning on driving home and couldn't find his car? I don't even want to think about it.
The worst thing that happened as a result of all this is that Keith and Zeke and I were all awake until like 3:30 in the morning and then I refused to go to sleep unless the light was on, but by the next day we were all back to normal. Except that now the front door stays locked whenever we're home. Personally I'm just glad the guy didn't piss on any of our furniture.