Despite the central air in my apartment, last night was one of those nights when it was cooler outside than in. Because I live on the ground floor, I can’t leave my windows open while I’m out, and it gets stuffy sometimes. I threw open the windows, had dinner, and sat down in my favorite chair with my laptop in my lap.
All of a sudden, I heard voices yelling, screaming, somewhere really close, like my apartment had been broken into. I pushed the laptop aside, jumped up and scanned the room, startled, my heart racing, totally confused.
Then I heard racial epithets (fucking Bin Laden terrorist, etc), and laughter. Two white teenagers (in this town I’ve only encountered racist hostility from white folks, but that’s a matter of a whole nother post) had snuck up to my open windows, yelled, and run away. I hadn’t seen them because my lights were on and it was dark outside.
I walked up to my windows, cussed the kids out, slammed the windows shut and glowered, my tranquility disturbed, my sense of safety in my own home penetrated.
I remembered that, whenever I had lived on the first floor in the past, one roomate always kept a baseball bat handy to … repell unwanted visitors.
That was the end of the incident. It wasn’t a hate crime, I didn’t feel threatened or menaced, nothing really bad happened. It was just some high-spirited teenagers out for some racist fun. Still, it might be prudent to keep a bat around.




