Booty Call and Paranoia

No this post does not have anything worse than PG-13 content, fear not.

My poor wife has been plagued by paranoia as long as I have known her. If she is the least bit worried about her actions, she'll be sure to keep an eye glued over her shoulder.

For example one of my favorite paranoia memories...

Spring 2004 Lauren and I took a trip out to Santa Barbara for spring break to hang out in sunny California with Danika and Brandon. We were only freshmen in college and too young to purchase adult beverages. Through "good" fortune, I obtained an ID card of a six foot tall, blue-eyed male who could pass as me about one out of fifteen times. While the four of us sat in the car outside of a shady enough liquor store, Lauren looked this way and that, white as a ghost. The other three of us discussed what I should attempt to get.

Everytime someone walked by the car Lauren would try to act OVERLY casual by peering out the window, scratching her arm, or awkwardly bobbing her head to the music as she pleaded with us to turn around.

I finally got the courage and headed inside. While inside, Brandon decided to play Lauren a little bit.
"Wait, guys, I think that is an undercover cop over there." - Brandon
"WHAT!! Where?!?!" - Lauren
"Right there, look!" -Brandon

Lauren of course was now nervous as all get out. I was inside, probably about to get arrested. Everybody else would be charged with being an accomplice to the crime (or so the little voice in her head told her). Too panicked Lauren says "Yes, I think you are right. That guy has a badge. Guys, seriously, I just saw his badge!"

Fail, it was no cop. Just your average citizen. We left there with no run-ins with the law, thankfully.

Well, paranoia reared its ugly head again just the other day.

The gym in our building is in the basement along with part of the parking garage and the recycling/dumpster area. Next to recycling people drop off old furniture (where we found our lovely night stands). Whenever we go to the gym, we always head over there to take a look to see what people are throwing out.

Low and behold, this day there was a navy blue, leather couch. I could tell Lauren wanted it as we looked it over and contemplated rescuing it. However, I also saw that little jitter and look in her face that screams "oh my gosh, we are going to get caught". Mind you, we aren't stealing, but the paranoia remains. Finally we were able to get over her fear hurdle and loaded the couch into the elevator. We rode up as Lauren frantically looked at the numbers praying for no stops before floor six. Again, safe.

We made it all the way to our apartment with only one man giving us strange looks. All cleaned and set up, it is not a bad little couch.

11:30PM, the digital sounds of Fur Elise blast out through the doorbell. We look up to see who it is. (Seriously, the whole video camera doorbell thing is so awesome). There we see a Korean man with a serious face and hands on hip. We look at each other and then back to the screen (panic white sets across Lauren's face). Quietly we say surely he'll go away, after all it is almost midnight and we're both in bed. Not 12 seconds later he pushes the doorbell again. 5 seconds later, tries the handle.

In a matter of 30 seconds he rang the doorbell four times and tried the handle three. The impatience he showed was absurd! Lauren finally says "ugh, just go open it, I know they have cameras in the building, I'm sure he is coming to get the couch back! Ugh! What are we going to say!! I'm so embarrassed!!"

I can't do anything but laugh. Finally I get to and open the door. The guy takes a step forward like he is going to come in and looks up and sees this white guy standing there. Bewildered, he does some funny hand motions, first the touchdown type sign, then the giant arm "X", then bowed, and walked away.

Not sure what he was doing, or what he wanted. We can only guess a booty call...thankfully he wasn't coming for the couch...