Amber Night

Wherein I discover just exactly how much of a bad-ass I am not.

I like to think of myself as kind of a bad-ass.  It's not true, of course, but I don't have to let myself know that.  I'm like one of those little toy dogs who wants you to know that they will fuck you up so bad, you'll wish they hadn't fucked you up so bad (obFamilyGuy rip), as long as you don't actually take them up on that challenge.

Well last night the last of that veneer was ripped away.

I woke up to a noise.  It sounded like it was coming from the living room.

It sounded like someone was moving around in my living room.

Now I've seen enough horror movies to know that the easiest way to install a machete in your forehead is to walk towards the noise.  On the other hand, I've seen enough horror movies to know that the best way to take a machete through your back is to be laying on top of the mattress that the machete plunges up through.

Hmm…machete to the forehead, or machete through the back?  I chose forehead.  I just bought this night shirt (it's so cute, it's got little penguins on it), and while a little blood spatter might wash out with some of that Oxy-orange crap that annoying guy sells on TV, a machete hole would absolutely ruin it.

So I get out of bed as quietly as I can, and I grab the only semi-heavy blunt object near me.

My Powerbook.

I really need to hit a sporting goods store.

So now I'm walking down my short little hallway, looking every bit like I'm about to iTunes somebody to death.  My own version of the Meatloaf song, Wasted Youth, is running through my head.

And just as I was about to bring the Powerbook crashing down upon the center of the bed
My father woke up, screaming stop!
Wait a minute. Stop it boy. What do you think your doing?
Thats no way to treat an expensive portable computer.
And I said, God damn it daddy,
You know I love you, but you've got a hell of a lot to learn about rock n roll

I turn the corner into the living room, and it's all shadows.  And then I'm thinking "shit, which way would the camera be facing if there was actually a camera?  Because if I turn away from the camera for even a second, and then turn back to it, I'm going to be staring at Freddy goddamned Kruger, 4 inches away from my face."

Just a little further to go for the light switch…

I have a printer.  It's a Brother 420CN.  It was the cheapest printer at Staples when I needed a printer that can also scan and fax.  I know fuck all about printers, but this I know for sure: the Brother 420CN is an evil fucking bastard.  Because at exactly the point I'm standing next to this piece of shit, heart pounding, palms sweating, breathing rapid, and Powerbook poised, it decides—at 2 o'clock in the fucking morning mind you—to do some kind of gear clicky thing.  Not a big production, just some kind of little half second skittery thing.  It's the electronic equivelant of the cat jumping out of the shadows, where the audience is supposed to laugh.  I didn't laugh.

But I did learn, in the event of a real home intrusion, exactly how I will react.

The first thing I did was scream.  Duh.  That's an easy one.

The next thing I did was throw my Powerbook at the wall above the printer.  It wasn't really a throw per se.  More of a girly throw, like "I am now in flight mode, and this very expensive but at-the-moment unnecessary Powerbook is really the last thing I need.  Here, wall that is 3 feet away from me, you hold it."

Then I think I fell on my butt and sort of scrabbled away, crab-style, back into my bedroom.  Followed by a stream of obscenities that can only be described as epic.

Incidently, Brother does not equip the 420CN with machetes or homicidal tendencies, and so I continue to enjoy my membership in the club of the living.

And as luck would have it, my Powerbook still works.  It's got a nice little dent on the corner now, but is otherwise no worse for the wear.  So suck on that, Dell.  (A friend of mine once cleared her throat while using her Inspiron, and the screen exploded, killing her with molten shards of LCD.  It's true.)

Epilogue: Nobody was in my apartment, and I never figured out what it was that made the noise.  It might have been the printer, which is currently enjoying this fine central California day in the dumpster, but I'm not sure. Oh, and bonus: the dented corner on myPowerbook is actually the corner of the battery that Apple is recalling/replacing for me in 6-8 weeks.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 30th, 2006 at 10:24 am and is filed under Amber's Brain. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.