I think I grew a little bit taller this morning. You know — that kind of taller when you hear the word “bomb” yelled by the FBI…
At 6am, I was awoken by a man pounding on a neighbor’s door screaming “POLICE!” He just pounded and yelled. I mean, now I’m up. Thanks, guy.
Then a woman started yelling “This is the FBI! Open this door!” More pounding. Now I’m scared. This is real.
As I grasped my surroundings, realizing it wasn’t a dream, I heard the word “bomb.” Wait…what?? BOMB??
I couldn’t see a thing in my apartment, and I was too afraid to turn on lights or make much noise. But I knew I had to get ready to leave.
Maybe it’s from the weeks of watching “The Closer” reruns, but I immediately thought “If there’s a shootout – I’ll easily be shot.” So I ran looking for my robe, completely crouched, ready for an announcement of an evacuation. But in the dark, everything looked the same. I had no success finding anything.
And then it hit me, it could explode right now. This could be it.
So I called my mom.
She’s on the east coast so it was 9am there. And she answered the phone so happy, “Hi honey!”
I just kept whispering “The FBI is here” “They’re at my neighbors” “I think there’s a bomb” “I can’t find any clothes” “The FBI is here!” “bomb!”
She said “What? I can’t hear you!”
Oh no mom, I can’t whisper louder, or they’ll hear me!
So I ‘scream-whispered’ “FBI” “BOMB” — definitely not the two words you want to hear coming from your daughter’s mouth, I’m sure.
My Hallway
She said “Put the phone down, get dressed!” I did. “Now pack up your valuables and get ready to go!”
Yes ma’am.
I grabbed my computer, but then noticed I hadn’t heard any more yelling. No one saying “Get Out” or banging on my door telling me to leave. It had been a few minutes since I heard “bomb” and nothing happened.
Just then, my pillow looked amazing. I was on a film set late the night before – surely the FBI and Bomb will understand I was sleepy. Please don’t let there be a bomb…I want to go back to sleep!
I stayed on the phone with my mom for a few more minutes – turning off my air conditioning and fan so I could hear more clearly. Nothing. And now it was hot in my room. Great.
I hung up the phone and poked my head out (even though my mom told me not to…). There was an FBI agent in the hallway (wearing a similar jacket to the one I rented for a film I directed a few years ago…except his was, of course, the real deal). He started to look in my direction and WHOOSH my door was closed. He didn’t see me. I’m a ninja.
I heard someone’s voice trying to explain “something” but I couldn’t hold on anymore. I needed to go back to sleep.
Later I discovered this person was arrested for “probably drugs or something.”
Cool.
Note to self: time to finally clean my apartment and get organized — for the next time I hear “bomb” in the middle of the night.
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