My Friday Night Freakout

It's been a long week. Yesterday was a day that made me reminisce to the point of sadness. But all was to be well, because the next morning, I was going to be spending the day with OAOA, and we we're going to have a blast. I was sure of it.

I went to bed early because I was supposed to wake up early to take her to a bagel place near my house I've been raving about, and to accompany her to a doctor's appointment to get her blood taken. For emotional support I guess. She cries when she gets needles.

It's about 11:45pm, I'm dozing off into sleep land, and BANG! I'm awakened by a loud fucking crash downstairs in my apartment. I'm frozen in my bed on the top floor in the darkness, door shut, awaiting further noises. This wasn't just a regular bump in the night, something broke and I was hoping it wasn't someone breaking in. Because both my roommates were on spring break. I was here alone.


What did I do? I called OAOA. Of course, her phone was off. Fuck. And I knew it wasn't off for long. She has a track record of letting her phone run out of battery and then plugging it in, and it was late, she should be at her dad's place any minute and have the phone plugged in, so I kept calling and calling. I felt like I was in a horror movie each time the call went straight to voicemail. Finally, she picked up, and I babbled on to her about how something crashed downstairs and I'm too afraid to go check it out. She assured me that everything was fine, and that if something was going to happen to me, it probably would've happened by now. In my head, that made sense, and I took her word for it. I went to sleep.

At around five in the morning, I had to pee, and all my fears of the crash had subsided, so I ventured downstairs to the bathroom. What did I find?

The entire fucking cabinet above my kitchen counter had fallen down, no thanks to probably the heavy ass ceramic dishes my roommates had in there. I stood over it in slight shock, thinking "Had I actually been standing under the fucking thing, I'd be close to dead, if not dead."

What occurred to me even more, in retrospect, was the fact that I called OAOA. There are half a dozen people I could have called. My mother. My father. My brother. Dan. Ben. In all actuality, the smartest phone call would have been to call 911. However, I would've felt absolutely retarded to have police come to my apartment to find I had been scared to death by a falling cabinet.

What's interesting about the situation is that OAOA could have done absolutely nothing. Had a person been in the house, all she could have done was redirected me to calling 911 like a smart person would have done in the first place. But she's done the same thing to me, in a multitude of situations. Over Thanksgiving, I was the first person she called crying after she hit a deer while driving. There was absolutely nothing that I could do besides tell her to call the police and her parents.

Even on the same day, before my cabinet fell, she called me at work asking me how to get to Temple Hospital because her sister had been in a bike accident. She has an iPhone, she could have looked up the directions. She could have called anyone but the fact remains, she chose me to call first. And I chose her.

What does that mean?

-Spontaneous K