Am I becoming a misanthrope?

It all started last Thursday around 6:30 pm.  I was in my bedroom getting ready to go out and meet some friends for dinner when I heard five rapid gunshots.  No one else was around, so I took a moment to think.  First, were those really gunshots?  Sometimes the neighborhood kids set off fireworks, and the two can sound remarkably similar.  But I didn't hear any other fireworks.  Second, where did the sound come from?  I went to the living room window that looks onto the street and peeked out.  I didn't see anything.  I went back to my room upon the realization that if they were gunshots, maybe I shouldn't be standing next to the window.

About five minutes later I started to hear police sirens and a helicopter.  It's not that unusual to hear those sounds in my 'hood.  In fact, almost nightly I shout at my ceiling at passing helicopters to hurry up and find the perp already because their noise is drowning out my TV (this is either misanthropy sign #1 or a sign that I'm turning into an old person).  So upon hearing these sounds, I said to myself, if the cops drive past and the sirens fade away, then I'm going to assume it was fireworks.  But they didn't drive past.  The sirens stopped at the southern end of my block.  Great.

It was at that point I wished that my intrepidly curious downstairs neighbor was around.  He would have gone outside with me to see what was going down.  I was too scared to go alone in case some gang war was taking place.  About a half hour later, I had to leave the house anyway to meet my friends.  I saw cars coming up from that end of the block, so I decided to drive that way.  When I got to the cross street, there was a cop car blocking the way and one entire corner was roped off with police tape.  Yikes.  I turned around and drove in a different direction, but that shook me up.

My roommates always tease me because it's actually kind of common for me to think I hear gunshots.  One time I was so sure that I made everyone get down on the ground and belly crawl, but that one turned out to be just a firework.  This was real.

I thought back to the walk I had taken to the bank the day before.  There had been some MS-13 tagging I passed along the way.  Was it new?  We always joke about our neighborhood being up-and-coming (at least for the last 3 years since we moved here), but what if it had suddenly gone the other direction?  This was the first time I had ever felt unsafe.

Cut to this morning when I was working on some writing and someone buzzed the doorbell three times.  I peeped out the peep hole.  No one inside the building (meaning it wasn't maintenance or my landlord).  I looked outside.  If it was UPS or FedEx, I would see a truck.  No truck.  The doorbell rang another three times.  Well, who the hell could that be?  None of my neighbors were home.  My imagination was running away with me.  I thought back to a news story in Memphis when I lived there about a local DJ being shot in the head just because she opened her apartment door to a stranger.  Again the buzzer rang three times.  I decided not to answer it.  What calm and logical solution did I come up with instead?  I turned on the shower.  And then I decided to get in.  There.  That was my excuse for not answering the door.  If anyone asked later, it was because I was in the shower.

Later I had to go to the police station to take care of a traffic violation, but while I was there I decided to get some serious info.  I told the very friendly desk officer that I had heard gun shots on my street but I couldn't find anything about what had happened.  Was there a shooting on my street?  He looked at me and said, "Probably."  Probably?!  According to him, "It happens a lot.  You're at home and you hear something and you think, was that a gun?  In this neighborhood, chances are it was."

Well, that's just dandy.  I am going to become like Emily Dickinson and never leave my house and never answer the door.  I already rarely answer my phone (that's another story), so this won't be that big of a leap for me.

I never hear the word "escape"

I never hear the word "escape"
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation,
A flying attitude.

I never hear of prisons broad
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars, --
Only to fail again!

-Emily Dickinson