Anais aka Benny Hill

The return trip from Dallas should have been over Wednesday night. But due to weather, the flight was delayed, a connection was missed, and bang presto...I'm 12 hours late in getting home.

After two days in the same clothes and with only a whore shower to tide me over, I was WELL ready to be home. But the comic relief that is my daily life had other plans...

I arrive home, dogs in tow, and settle in to my routine. Gather the mail, take it out on the back patio while the pups sniff and piss contentedly. Of course I close the door behind me, no sense in letting all that air conditioned coolness out.

Only...I forgot to make sure the bottom lock was disengaged. After a brief moment of panic, I decide to try the front door. No luck.

I spend a few minutes going from front door to back door (surely this next time I turn the knob it won't be locked!). Finally I think...time to try the neighbors.

Sidenote...it's absolutely criminal how dependent we are on cell phones these days. I was lost without it.

Back to me traipsing up and down the street, knocking on doors. No one is home! It's the middle of the day! What to do, what to do, what to do???

I return to the front door and have a thought...maybe I can jig loose the crank-out window and get enough of my arm in there to turn the crank the rest of the way and then pop the screen and then reach the lock and yes, this is going to work!

It won't budge. Nosireebob. Nothing is going to happen according to that plan.

However, the right edge of the window frame isn't settling back into place, let me just press here on the window....

Yes. You guessed it. Window...shattered. And worse yet, blood EVERYWHERE. My wrist is bleeding copiously. No spurting, thankfully.

I look at the blood and the window and think... Fuck. I'm going to bleed out on my own goddamn front porch.

But then I realize, now I can actually GET in the house! So I break a bit more glass out, bend up the screen on the inside, pull a chair over to fall into, and then squeeze my ass through the 17 inches of space left by the broken window.

In a dress.

With no underwear.

And the postman comes to the door.

Two hours later and the glass is cleaned up and the repair man has paid a visit and all is right with the world. The cuts on my wrist were just flesh wounds...I dripped on some superglue and they closed right up. I told you I am a masochist!


Postscript: The postman had absolutely no reaction. None whatsoever. Freakish.