A note on working late...

Last night I worked late.

And by "late" I mean it was going on 10 PM when I finally left the building.

Anyway, the museum where I work has a very small staff. So, the last one there at night is in charge of locking up the employee entrance and turning on the alarm.

Last night that person was me.

Normally, being the last one in the building doesn't really bother me - especially now that the scary doll exhibit has been packed up and sent away (I really don't like dolls. They freak me out and remind me of every CHUCKIE movie trailer that I've ever seen). Last night was no different - that is until it came time to actually leave the safety of the museum and venture outside to my car.

See, the problem is that I work in an area of Dallas that is not necessarily known for it's...uh...safety. I have actually stopped watching the evening news (except for the weather) because I'm tired of hearing about yet another murder-shooting-mugging-WHATEVER down near the museum. I much prefer to feign ignorance about the crime statistics surrounding where I work. It is the one case where denial is actually working for me (or so I tell myself).

My mother has instituted a similar strategy at her house. I call it the "don't ask, don't tell" policy and it applies to me when I work alone at the museum after dark. In her mind, if she doesn't know about it, then it is not really happening. Ignorance may really be bliss, after all (or, at least, worry free).

Anyway, back to last night...

I packed up my stuff and headed down the hall towards the employee entrance. Once I got there I gently unlocked the door and opened it just enough to stick my head out and look around.

I do this for one reason, and one reason alone: RR said so.

RR has instructed me countless times to always open the employee door and peek out before actually leaving the building. Why?...you ask? Well, it is all in an effort to spot a potential murderer-rapist-kidnapper before he or she is able to kill, rape and/or bag the peeker (in this particular situation: me). I admit that this is a (somewhat) silly thing to do - mainly because I don't believe that anyone is actually waiting outside the door to simply jump out and randomly attack me. Not that it couldn't happen, mind you. I just think that it is statistically improbable. But, I do peek anyway...you know...just incase.

Last night when I opened the door, I heard a very loud *CRACK!* I don't know who or what it was, nor do I pretend to know where it came from. Upon hearing the Loud Sound of Indeterminable Origin (LSIO, for short) I jumped back inside the building and pulled the door closed (and by "pulled", I really mean "pulllllllllllllllllled" because there is no shutting that door in a way that resembles anything fast, speedy or moderately swift).

Anyway, I got the stupid door closed and then I just...well, stood there. Because when you hear something all you can really do is wait to hear something again. And THAT does you no good, because you are still in the museum and you don't really want to find out what it is like to, say, sleep there. So, when you don't hear something again after a few minutes it becomes clear that you are going to have to make a decision:

1. Spend the night.
2. Attempt the "door peek" for a second time and pray for no sound this time around.

I opted for option number two.

So, I gathered up all my nerve and slowly unlocked and reopened the employee door. And...and...and...and...well, nothing.

Nothing happens.

Nothing.

I close the door and *sigh*. Now what? It LOOKS safe, but there was that sound a little while ago. Do you really want to risk life and limb for a chance to leave work (this really wasn't a question, because - again - there was NO way I was going to sleep anywhere near the museum. Not a viable option, if you ask me).

So, what do I do?

What DO I do?

Well, Trevor is in class up in Plano. He gets out at 10, but I don't really want to wait in the hallway for him to make the 45 minute drive down here. Especially since my something was probably...well...nothing.

I can't call my parents - that would violate the "don't ask, don't tell" policy.

Which leaves me with...what, exactly?

Oh, wait! I know! I'll call RR!

To be honest, I called RR knowing perfectly well that she would NOT answer. The twins have a strict no-cell-phone-after-they-are-both-home rule, so I was confident that it would go straight to voicemail.

And, you know what?...it did!

Brilliant.

No rings, no nothing. Just the cheerful, "Leave a message" coming from RR's cell phone voicemail.

So, I did just that...I left a message.

I left a message as I walked from the museum to my car...rambling on about nothing every step of the way.

Why?...you ask?

Well, let me explain. The plan was perfectly simple. If I was attacked by what ever caused the earlier LSIO, then I could describe - at least in fragmented detail - what my attacker looked like.

Plus, the very leaving of the message guaranteed that a specific time frame would be established by the local law enforcement in the event of my abduction, near-fatal wounding or tragic slaying.

See...perfect plan.

So, I got to my car safely (it was very anticlimactic, really. The most exciting thing that happened on the way to my car was that a security guard in a golf cart drove by at a swift 3 miles an hour).

Then I hung up the phone and drove home.

It wasn't until I got back to my house that I actually stopped to think that maybe...just maybe...RR would be upset that I had done what I had done - utilizing her cell phone answering machine in such an unorthodox way.

But I needn't have been so concerned. Apparently, RR calls and leaves similar messages on JLR's answering machine when she is leaving work late at night. I guess great minds really do think alike.

Who knew?!

The End...