I'm going to go ahead and get down on the floor for this

Well, it finally happened. Seven months of living in an apartment overlooking Troost and I finally heard my first shooting. I always thought when I heard it I would just accept it as part of the neighborhood. I keep my mouth shut and keep to myself. I don't bother anyone, I don't expect to be bothered.

A couple of weeks ago, I left my balcony door open to let the night air in. I was especially tired so I fell asleep on the couch around eight or nine. At 1 am I woke up to "kill-that-mother-f***er-with-lead" gunfire. I mean someone was shooting like they got their bullets at discount price. People were screaming, car tires started squealing out, and I'm pretty sure I rolled off the couch and hit the floor loud enough to let whoever was shooting know I was home.

So there I was lying on a half-eaten bag of Doritos when I realize that the gunshots are coming from the nightclub across the street. I don't think I've ever been so freaked out in my life. I could explain in so many words how close that place is to my apartment, but it would be easier for me to invite you over to chuck objects at the clubs windows. My first thought was to call my dad. He's the one person I've always felt closest to, and I needed to talk to someone quickly. He answered in a groggy voice, "Are you in trouble?"

To which I replied, "Well I'm fine for now, but some crazy assholes are shooting at each other across the street."

Now I love my father, and I know he was just waking up, but I wasn't really ready for: "Well as long as you're OK. How much longer do you have on your lease?"

... "Uh.... "

... "Until September."

I can't really recall the rest of the pleasantries we exchanged, but I said I love you and let him go back to sleep. I waited another half hour or so and finally crawled across the room into the bathroom where I got dressed in the dark. I drove across town straight to work..... and got pulled over in the parking lot. FML.