I went out to dinner the other night with Whitney and her friend Megan, who both somehow are under the age of 25, in very successful jobs, either married, or engaged, either own a house, or are in the process of owning one. Yeah...I fit in...uh...
Anyways, Megan told me that the night her and her hubby got back from their honey moon, their worst fears came true when they discovered that their house had been broken into. The front door was un-locked and to confirm their suspicions, some jewelry of Megan's was missing.
This of course would be bad enough, but then they noticed the muddy footprint and hand prints in their shower. And that was just the beginning! After listening in awe at her story, I've used my forensic skills to recreate the unfortunate night:
I'm thinking this jerk got messy in the process of breaking and entering(I've heard it's quite a dirty job), and thinks,
"What the hey, I'll just shower here! And then I'll dig through some of their cardboard boxes...oh look! Here's an un-used electric razor, great! And after I rid my face of chin pubes, I might as well use this raspberry scented lotion they've got so conveniently stashed in the medicine cabinet. Hmm, but I better hide my evidence, so I'll hide the bar I used to break in, under the kitchen sink, who ever looks there?! Wait, wait! is this a can of SOUP?? Yes! After all, being this creepy squater has created an earth quaking rumble in my belly, and soup would suit me just fine. I'll just leave the can in the oven, they'll never find it there....I'm so clever!
Ja ja ja jack pot!!"
Poor girl had to scan every inch of her house, making sure she didn't miss anything else, throwing away any suspected item that he could have potentially touched(or molested). Worst of all, when she picked up the electric razor...hair fell out. Oh. My. God. Yuck.
I guess things are getting back to normal there, but I'm sure her showering experience will never be the same....
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