Thursday, October 7, 2010


During my senior year of college I got a great job. Basically I sat at a desk all weekend. I worked at a condo that just needed someone at the office during the weekend. I didn’t show apartments or anything like that. My only responsibilities were to deliver packages that showed up and occasionally walk the building to make sure everything was ok. Super easy.

Since I was there Friday night, 12 hours on Saturday and most of Sunday, I decided to work out while I was there. So every so often I’d run the stairs of the building. Because they had elevators, the stairs were almost never used. They were not fancy but just concrete stairs.

So one Saturday night around 11pm or so I was running back down the stairs. I turned the corner and there was a man lying on the ground in front of the door to that floor. There was blood on the door so I figured he’d fallen down the stairs. He seemed barely conscious.

But suddenly my heart started pounding. My body was telling me something was wrong. That I needed to run.

It occurred to me that this could be a set up. If someone was behind me, I was done. They could do anything to me in this stairwell and maybe no one would ever know.

I turned around. No one. I heard the man say no as I told him I would get help.

I ran. I ran up those stairs 3 or 4 at a time. I had my cell phone with me and immediately dialed 911.

I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.

The police and firemen showed up. I took them back to where I’d seen the guy and I knew he wouldn’t be there. And he wasn’t.

There was still blood on the door but he was gone.

I’m sure he was on drugs or something and fell down the stairs. When he knew I was getting help, he probably just stumbled off to wherever he’d come from.

But still I bawled that night. I knew how close I’d come to something very bad happening. I still get scared when I think of it.

I imagine turning around and someone being there. A simple trap.

From me to you, take the elevator.

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