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Yesterday, due to late waking up and dawdling, I had not eaten anything till past 3:00 and had just left my apartment to go to the grocery store so I could have lunch.
When I turned the corner to go to my garage, I saw that it was blocked by a police car and a crowd of cops yelled, "Go back, go back!"
I scrambled back and ran into another cop in body armor, who said, "Do you live here?"
"Er... yes," I said.
"We're evacuating this building," he said. "You need to go at least a few blocks away, and stay away for at least a few more hours."
"Is it a gas leak?" I asked. "Because if it's anything like that, I'm taking my cats with me."
"No, it's a man with a lot of guns," he replied succinctly.
"Do you think it would be safe for me to leave my cats in the apartment?" I asked.
"Which one is yours?" he asked. I pointed it out. "Yeah, I think they'd be fine."
Based on that and the position of the police I'd seen, I crammed the cats into the bathroom with food and water, as that seemed well away from the center of action (as did my entire apartment, actually), and took an uber to my favorite burger place, Plan Check.
"Hello!" said the waitress. "Happy Hour just started!" (Literally; it was exactly 4:00.) "We have $6 Old Fashioneds."
"I'll take one," I said.
It showed up about 15 minutes before my burger did. You will recall I'd had nothing to eat all day. Plan Check makes notoriously strong cocktails, a fact I knew but did not recall till after I was well into mine. This explains why I only woke up just now.
I had my burger and drink, wandered around Sawtelle, had a hazelnut cream puff at Beard Papa, then called the police, who said they'd just arrested the gunman, there was no structural damage to the area, and I could go back home in an hour or so. I decided to walk to a friend's house, lift some weights in her apartment gym, then go back home.
While walking to her apartment, two cars crashed right in front of me. No injuries, but both appeared totaled.
I lifted my weights, then called an uber back, figuring that was likely my share of weirdness for the day. The uber driver on way back interrogated me over my failure to fast on Yom Kippur (I would have said I was except that I had forgotten about Yom Kippur), then over the disease I made up to excuse that.
"I have diabetes and I'm fasting!" he declared.
When I returned I found that the cats had pulled down the towels and stuffed them in the water bowl, shredded the toilet paper roll, opened the cupboard, and shredded all the stored toilet paper as well. I guess I'm still due for that grocery run.
When I turned the corner to go to my garage, I saw that it was blocked by a police car and a crowd of cops yelled, "Go back, go back!"
I scrambled back and ran into another cop in body armor, who said, "Do you live here?"
"Er... yes," I said.
"We're evacuating this building," he said. "You need to go at least a few blocks away, and stay away for at least a few more hours."
"Is it a gas leak?" I asked. "Because if it's anything like that, I'm taking my cats with me."
"No, it's a man with a lot of guns," he replied succinctly.
"Do you think it would be safe for me to leave my cats in the apartment?" I asked.
"Which one is yours?" he asked. I pointed it out. "Yeah, I think they'd be fine."
Based on that and the position of the police I'd seen, I crammed the cats into the bathroom with food and water, as that seemed well away from the center of action (as did my entire apartment, actually), and took an uber to my favorite burger place, Plan Check.
"Hello!" said the waitress. "Happy Hour just started!" (Literally; it was exactly 4:00.) "We have $6 Old Fashioneds."
"I'll take one," I said.
It showed up about 15 minutes before my burger did. You will recall I'd had nothing to eat all day. Plan Check makes notoriously strong cocktails, a fact I knew but did not recall till after I was well into mine. This explains why I only woke up just now.
I had my burger and drink, wandered around Sawtelle, had a hazelnut cream puff at Beard Papa, then called the police, who said they'd just arrested the gunman, there was no structural damage to the area, and I could go back home in an hour or so. I decided to walk to a friend's house, lift some weights in her apartment gym, then go back home.
While walking to her apartment, two cars crashed right in front of me. No injuries, but both appeared totaled.
I lifted my weights, then called an uber back, figuring that was likely my share of weirdness for the day. The uber driver on way back interrogated me over my failure to fast on Yom Kippur (I would have said I was except that I had forgotten about Yom Kippur), then over the disease I made up to excuse that.
"I have diabetes and I'm fasting!" he declared.
When I returned I found that the cats had pulled down the towels and stuffed them in the water bowl, shredded the toilet paper roll, opened the cupboard, and shredded all the stored toilet paper as well. I guess I'm still due for that grocery run.
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(2) Isn't... Yom Kippur... tonight/tomorrow?
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You're not supposed to fast if it has adverse effects on your health! It's not a mitzvah under those circumstances! You don't get the points!
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Well, that guy will start his new year feeling like crap and you will not, so.
(I'm glad you and your cats are all right.)
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YIKES to your day. YIKES.
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At least your cats were not, ah, discommoded, it appears!
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When I returned I found that the cats had pulled down the towels and stuffed them in the water bowl, shredded the toilet paper roll, opened the cupboard, and shredded all the stored toilet paper as well.
Um. I'm glad they ... kept themselves occupied?
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How the hell did that bad, bad cabbie place you as Jewish?
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I suppose this is demonstrating my Canadianness.
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Your cats. I mean.
P.
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I'm glad you at least got a cheap cocktail out of it.
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Glad you’re all okay. Were the cats creating a protest sculpture out of papier-mâché?
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And extra sympathy on the random Yom Kippur guilt-tripping by a stranger O.o (I have been fighting with my grandfather for Yom Kippur related reasons -- as in, Yom Kippur is not a reason to forego medical procedures that aren't even related to eating/drinking! Oy.)
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A worthy addition to the It Could Only Happen to Rachel archives!
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Also, as a diabetic person... dear Mr Taxi Driver, please do not, this is the sort of foolishness that leads to fainting at the wheel. I'm pretty sure that's NOT a mitzvah.
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And that waitress is clearly prescient.
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I'm glad the excitement was no more destructive than some toilet paper, sodden towels, tipsiness, and guilt-tripping, though. Yow. ó_ò
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