They Plump When You Cook Them!

When I got divorced, I moved into a very small (600 sq. ft. or less) apartment in the town where I worked. I got free rent for being security for the complex. The apartment was upstairs with a small balcony off the living area. The building sat at the bottom of a small hill. There was a large grassy area behind it and more apartment buildings at the top of the hill. The apartment beside me was a mirror image of mine. Their bedroom backed up to mine which was entertaining from time to time. When the entertainment got too much, I would put on my headphones, put my Fleetwood Mac album on the turntable, and sing every song at the top of my lungs. NOT pretty even to me!

I had very little furniture. In my bedroom, I had an extra long twin bed, a big black hope chest, and a small chest of drawers. I used the hope chest as a bedside table in addition to storing my sweats and such. I worked second shift at the time. When I came home I would take my stainless steel S&W 357 magnum revolver out of its holster and place it beside my bed on the chest facing the exterior wall toward my balcony. The hope chest also held my hat, wallet, and a windup style alarm clock with the on-off button on the back.

Due to the upheaval in my life, my sleeping and eating habits were a little off. I wasn’t eating and I would sit up until the radio stations would go off the air (OK, I am telling my age. Things haven’t always been 24 hours a day.) One night, I got off work about two and didn’t attempt to go to bed until 4 or so. I forgot that I had to be in court at 7AM the following morning! When I realized that I had to get up so early, I began to worry that I would oversleep. I called the third shift dispatcher and asked for a wake-up call at 5:30. I set my alarm for 5:15. The call from dispatch was a backup in case I turned off my alarm (no snooze, it was a windup) and fell back to sleep. I went to sleep.

I was in deep R.E.M. sleep when the alarm sounded. I rolled over, mashed the button on the back of the clock, and went soundly back to sleep. I was on my left side facing the hope chest. I started smelling something unusual….it didn’t fit into my dream….what is that smell?

I opened one eye and looked toward the clock…5:20. I closed my eye. That smell…what was it? I knew that I should recognize it but I couldn’t place it. Half asleep..I kept thinking about the smell. GUNPOWDER! Why do I smell gunpowder? I opened one eye back up and looked past the clock. I saw a large black circle on my wall with a hole in the middle of it. Closed my eye …opened both eyes…looked again …it was still there.

Oh SHIT! I jumped out of bed realizing that I had just shot a hole through my bedroom wall …. the wall between my bedroom and my balcony. The balcony that faced the grassy knoll, the balcony that looked up the hill toward other apartments! I literally ran out of my bedroom, wearing next to nothing, through my living room and out onto my balcony. I looked all around searching for bodies laying on the grass. Nothing, no one out. OK, that was a good sign. I turned and looked at the wall and saw a much larger blackened hole. Damn ….. what if I shot into an apartment?

I ran back inside. What should I do? I slowed my breathing and picked up the phone. I dialed dispatch.

Dispatch: ** PD, how may I help you?

Me: Ummm, it’s A*****, I am up already so no need for that wake up call. [deep breath] By the way, have you guys gotten any calls about gunshots in my neighborhood this morning? [holding breath]

Dispatch: No, it was a quiet night and nothing like that has come in.

Me: [sighing] Oh, Ok, I must have heard a car backfire, never mind.

I hung up the phone, sat on the couch and started shaking. Where did the bullet go?

I ran into the bedroom, dropped to my knees, and looked out of the hole. All I could see was my grill that sat on the balcony. It had a nice new hole right in the side of it. I put on some clothes and went back outside. I looked around. I still didn’t see any bodies so I turned to look at the grill.

Did you ever see that hotdog commercial, I think it was B*llp*rk Franks, that “plump when you cook them?” In the commercial, it showed the hotdogs punched out the side of the grill as they were cooked and “plumped.” No hole, just the metal stretched in the shape of the hotdog. That was what I saw when I looked at the side of my grill. The bullet had enough velocity to go through an exterior wall, through the side of the grill, but not enough to go through the other side. I opened it and fished around in the ashes and found the bullet. I still have it in my jewelry box. I kept it to remind me of how important gun safety is.

Relieved, I went back inside. I went back in the bedroom to try to figure out how I shot a hole in my wall. Apparently, when the alarm sounded, I reached to mash the button on the back. Instead of grabbing the clock, I grabbed the trigger of my gun and squeezed. I still to this day cannot understand why the sound didn’t awaken me. Have you ever fired a 357 less than two feet from your face in a closed space? It is very loud! Deafeningly loud! The smell awakened me…not the noise! Go figure.

Ok, it was time to get to court. I jumped into the shower and then slung on all the accoutrements of the job. I quickly cleaned my gun, reloaded, and hauled ass to court.

When I got back home, I stuffed the hole with newspaper and put duck tape over it on the outside. The building was gray, who would notice? I covered over the hole inside with lots of toothpaste. I think it took a whole tube before it looked solid enough to pass for sheetrock. When I moved, it was still fixed like that. I never bothered to patch it properly.

I am very thankful that I was always careful to point my gun to the outside and that no one was outside at the time. I never slept with my gun within arms reach of my bed again.