How I Came to Room with Baby Huey. Briefly.

I had The Fright last night.

My hood’s an edgy hotspot for criminal activity, trouble, various sordid and nefarious doings. G’s exchanging information, drugs for money, money for drugs and whatever else is a common sight steps from my building. While the cops patrol pretty heavily, for which I’m grateful, they can’t be everywhere at once.

I feel uneasy and vulnerable here, most of all because my apartment’s at street level. On the upside, it positions me to keep an active watchful eye.

On the downside, {whispering} this apartment would be way too easy to break into with a snip of a weathered screen and a push of a window with aged latches.

Whenever I return “home” (note: this is so not home), I breathe a sigh of relief that nothing’s happened and my things still exist, here.

When I leave, I typically leave a light lit and the stereo radio on, tuned to a talk show.

So imagine my enormous surprise when I return to my side of the building at 10 p.m. and hear a stereo blaring!

And at a volume audible halfway down the block. Extremely unusual. We’re a quiet building.

Perhaps my upstairs military guy neighbor’s having a shindig, I think, trying to ascertain the source of the music.

Until I enter the building, unlock my door and discover it’s my stereo that’s blasting!

And it’s not just THAT it’s blasting — alarming itself that be for I’d left it at low volume — but WHAT it’s blasting.


Everything is wrong with this picture. Seriously. I swear upon the grave of a beloved that you will never hear even 10 seconds of rap music by my doing. At high volume. Low volume. Any volume but zero volume.

So I pause two steps past the threshold and scan with eagle eyes. Visions of encountering bad dudes leisurely rifling through my stuff to the music of their choice — and worse possibilities and fates — surge through my mind.

And I see:

My fake rug — a Guatemalan blanket from the Goodwill because – damn! – rugs are expensive!

My adrenalin surge is slightly tempered by the sight all too familiar. Because of this guy:

Moose and the spoils of his running rampages.

I switch off the gawd-awful rap, pour mental apologies to my neighbors for being subjected to that loud crap for god knows how many hours, proceed through the place and find nothing amiss and windows secure.

I breathe easier. Thank god nothing happened to me or the apartment I don’t call home.

The uber-loud rap, there can be only two explanations:

(1) That talk radio station introduced a new night format.

and/or (2)


who has been spotted in times past atop the stereo so perhaps a paw of a certain someone knocked the dial.

Funniest part, only after normalcy resumes, is Moose.

He is yelling mad when I walk in.

At first I speculate he’s sounding an alarm, signaling trouble.

Now, I can’t say whether he was complaining about having been left alone for eight hours.

Or the rap.


10 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. countrybydesign
    Jan 14, 2011 @ 20:49:56

    OMG! That would scare me silly!!


  2. Lauren
    Jan 15, 2011 @ 14:32:02

    Oh, thank whatever you are (physically) OK.
    I would have panicked and not slept for days.

    Hope your nerves are beginning to settle down.


    • allycatadventures
      Jan 15, 2011 @ 15:46:24

      @Lauren – Thanks for commenting. My nerves settled as soon as a tour revealed the residence to be untouched and absent intruders. I’m pragmatic and level-headed in a crisis (once looked into EMT training) so I’d have dealt with it (with the hope that it wouldn’t cost my life); however, am relieved it didn’t come to that. Finding your residence rather unlike the way you left it is jarring to be sure.


  3. Country Cinderella
    Jan 15, 2011 @ 16:40:36

    I am so glad it is nothing more than Moose. We have a couple of cats that like to sleep on my roommate’s stereo too, and they have changed stations, volumes and even function a number of times.


    • allycatadventures
      Jan 15, 2011 @ 19:15:23

      @CC – lol. Those are some crafty cats! Oddly, for the untold number of hours Moose spends here, he’s very rarely on the stereo and until the other day hadn’t mastered the art of dial manipulation, lol.


  4. lexiemom
    Jan 19, 2011 @ 05:42:30

    I had a similarly creepy incedent happen to me several months ago. I came home to find that my house alarm had been tripped. We have the alarm, but don’t pay for monitoring. As soon as I walked in and realized the alarm had been tripped, I refused to go in any further. All of my usually home-body neighbors were out. So, I called my uncle, who lives down the street, and made him go through the house, before I would go in or get the children out of the van. No one was there, and nothing had been taken, but it was a very disquieting feeling. It seems that our boarded up doggie door in the basement (our dogs died a little under 2 years ago) had come loose or been knocked in by a critter of some sort, and that had set off the alarm.
    It is a frightning feeling, isn’t it?


    • allycatadventures
      Jan 19, 2011 @ 17:30:31

      @lexiemom – Your tripped-alarm experience is kinda creepy {shudder}. I too would’ve been very cautious about entering and am glad it was nothing more than an animal tripping the alarm (I’ve read accounts of that happening). Thanks for sharing that story and yes, returning to a “disturbed” residence is a frightening feeling.


  5. bizemom
    Jan 19, 2011 @ 18:42:59

    Maybe he was mad you busted up a good house party!


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