I am getting ready for Jetset (doing some poses in the mirror to music, really) when I notice a hooded figure walking by my window.
The figure walks by a second time, and then a third time. I assume this fool is casing my garden-level apartment, so I grab the dogs and sashay outside. I walk around the side of the building but no one is there.
I then walk to the back of the building and see the prowler jumping down from my building’s fire escape ladder! He walks by me and cuts across a parking lot. The prowler then suddenly turns around, walks back to the building and pulls out a key. He then walks in the back door of the building and out the front door. I’m horrified.
My phone flies out of my pocket and I call the cops.
I explain that I am the building caretaker and that the prowler does not live here (despite having a key.) The Minneapolis police call back later and tell me that other buildings in the neighborhood reported the clown as well, but that no one has seen him for at least 30 minutes. I went to the bar and hoped that the dogs would keep him out of my apartment.
Hide your kids, hide your wife, the pedobear has a key to my building. Good thing that I have crazy-renter’s insurance…
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