So, I’m sitting on the couch next to the front door at around 9 or so last night, working on my dissertation, when I hear someone walk up to the front step and then TRY THE DOOR HANDLE. Fortunately, it’s locked. A pause, then a knock. I look out the window, we’ve not turned on the porch light and all I can see is the outline of a large man. I flip on the porch light, confirm that it’s a large man and holler MATT!!!! (who is annoyed because he’s on bedtime duty and Harry has just fallen asleep. Whoopsie.)
I explained to him why I was yelling and he opened the door with a gruff “what’s up?” Turns out it’s a delivery guy with a bag full of takeout food for our address, but we haven’t ordered anything. I watched from the hallway so that I could reassure H that everything was okay, but also waiting for the guy to jump Matt. Surely this wasn’t some elaborate ruse to case our (admittedly magnificent — ha!) house? And just an honest mistake? But why would he try the door first?
Maybe I read our neighborhood crimewatch reports too much, or maybe the timing was off — I’d had the woman who was just viciously raped in Hyde Park on my mind all day –but this was terrifying. I can’t even begin to imagine what would have happened if I’d been home alone or had chosen not to open the door (we’ve had a spate of burglaries that begin with someone knocking on the door to see if anyone’s home).
Time for a panic room?