Atlanta is one of those cities where many neighborhoods are simultaneously nice and ghetto. I live in one such neighborhood. But Sunday night when I heard a nearby "bang, bang", I got a little rattled - more so than usual. With the recent murder of my neighbor coupled with my weekend viewings of Blood Diamond and The Departed, I guess I was a bit gun-shy, so to speak.
My roommate and I were just finishing up a movie late Sunday evening when the two shots sounded off. I muted the tv and tentatively peeked out the window, looking and listening intently. Heather began to poke fun at me - asking me if I wanted to go outside on the porch and smoke a cigarette. Laughter (on her part) ensued. She egged me on, giving me hell for being such a wuss.
Next thing we know, a subsequent "bang, bang, bang" rang out - even closer than the first two shots. Heather, who was sitting in the chair by the window - hit the deck running to the back of house while she ducked to dodge flyaway bullets. I followed suit, though my broken leg was not happy about my attempt to run.
Her husband was in the back in their bedroom watching the Super Bowl. We explained what was going on, but then he told us that the game had just ended, so it had to be fireworks going off.
Ummm, yeah. Fireworks. That's what we thought. Fireworks.
The good news is that I've not let Heather live down the moment she sprang from her chair and took off running. I'm still laughing at that sight.
~ the lady
