I left the house around noon, went to B&N to have lunch in the cafe and finish reading a book I had started there yesterday. After that I ran a few errands and then got home a little after 3 to get ready for an afternoon/evening of playoff football viewing.
All seems innocent and not at all a day that would require a (fictional) FBI Agent to come to the rescue, right?
Well, here's where it gets sketchy. I took the trash out, seemingly an innocuous act, and I am 100% positive I unlocked the door handle before walking around the building to the dumpster. I got back, climbed the stairs and... the door was locked.
Um, how in the world did a door I know I unlocked get locked unless a psycho unsub* was in my apartment waiting for me? (Totally your first thought as well, right?)
So, I let myself back in, grabbed my phone and dialed (but did not hit send) on 911 and picked up the fireplace poker. I looked around the living room and kitchen before walking down the hall to check my bedroom, hand hovering over the "send" button the whole time.
My room was clear, as was the bathroom. I didn't open my roommate's room, just came into my room, still clutching the fire place poker and turned to twitter to calm me down. I shared my concerns (to the amusement of others) and then, finally had the light bulb moment that the disorganized unsub in the midst of a psychotic break (the first profile to come to mind) would not have locked the door to keep me out, he would have snuck in and left the door unlocked so I could get back in easier.
Obviously.
It's a good thing too, because at this point the cat was sleeping on the fireplace poker so it wouldn't have done me much good anyway.
(*For those of you non-Criminal Minds fans, first, I scoff at you and your poor taste in TV shows. And second, Agent Morgan is hottie Shemar Moore and an unsub is the unknown subject, aka the bad guy.)
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