I did not break in last night.
Technically.
See, I was at a fancy-schmancy West Loop bar last night, but the sort of place that doesn't let the fact that it has $10 appetizers get in the way of having 10 TVs showing the game. It was my first opportunity to socialize outside of class with a lot of people from my section, nearly all of whom don't go to bar review events. I behaved myself for the most part, although I think I may have accidentally implied that everybody raised outside of New York City proper is a rube. Such is the result of drinking after having only an apple for dinner. For the record, I don't really believe that you're a rube if you're raised outside of New York City. Just to be clear.
Which brings us to how I ended up at your convenience store. By 12:30, I was starving and wanted to meet up with some friends in Lakeview, so I left to amble to the El for a train uptown. Not knowing when the next train would come, I wanted to get a bite to eat before waiting in the cold (DC readers: It's officially cold at night here). I would have rather bought a slice of pizza or an empanada or some samosas or something better, but a bag of pretzels or perhaps a nasty hot dog off of a greasy roller would have done the trick.
The sign on the door said you closed at 12 (it's a convenience store - for shame!) but I saw that the lights were on and I heard some faint easy listening music, so I thought that either the sign was out-of-date or that you were closing and I could slip in for the last purchase of the night.
I walked in, saw nobody, peeked around the coffee machines and said "hello."
"Hello?"
"Hello!"
"Is anybody here?"
When I started waving my arms around, an alarm went off with a piercing "whoop-whoop". I ran for the door, expecting it to be automatically bolted, trapping me inside to wait for the police to screech up in ten squad cars up front, ram the door, toss in a tear gas canister and tackle me.
The door was open, I booked it for about two blocks to a gas station, where I bought some Chex Mix before seeing how long the El would take to arrive (20 minutes) and instead flagged down a cab.
So in summary, I didn't take anything. I just walked in and tripped your alarm. If I see my face on a wanted poster at my local White Hen, I will turn myself in and explain everything, confident that I will be exonerated. I can't stomach life on the run.
Sorry for the misunderstanding,
-Thrown for a Loop
I laughed so hard at the visual reconstruction of the moment the alarm sounded that I had to hold a mouthful of water very, very still until I could relax enough to swallow. Bravo.
Thank you, thank you.
First, I know that really believe that one is a rube if one is raised outside of New York City. Don't even front.
Second, I am surprised you didn't have a heart attack and die right there in the convenience store when the alarm went off. It sounds like this sort of thing would be at the top of your list of horrible things you never want to happen to you. It also sounds like something that would happen to me, but that's an aside.