Drop, Cover, Hold On

That was the instructions on the emergency alert I received this morning shortly after 10 AM — "Earthquake Detected! Drop, Cover, Hold On. Protect Yourself."

Only I didn’t feel or hear a thing, but the earthquake site indicated 6.7 three miles from San Diego.

Two of my facebook friends, who live nearby, posted they’d felt it.

The Talker felt it as well, posting ……… "So I’m sitting at the casino on a winning streak. The machine starts shaking then the floor is shaking. Wow! What a win! An Earthquake".

Yeah, I thought just what you're thinking, that it was 10 AM in the morning.

I’m drinking coffee. The Talker is at the casino gambling already.

Talker practically lives at the casino. Spends more time there than in her own unit.

It’s a good thing she’s lucky and usually wins otherwise, with what looks like a gambling addiction, she’d have trouble paying the bills.

Other than an earthquake, not a lot to report as I’ve stayed pretty much inside my unit, not run into any residents since last Tuesday ……… with one creepy exception.

There’s a weird little man on the premises, whom I assume is a fairly new resident with issues.

It was a few months ago that he first came to my attention.

I was outside chatting with a group of residents when, from across the quad, we heard him shouting something and waving his arms at us.

We paid him no mind until he crossed the grassy knoll, approached us babbling something we couldn’t make out.

He was standing too close to me, so I left and returned to my unit.

I didn’t see him again until last Wednesday when I was heading to the Pain Cave.

I was walking towards the dumpster to deposit trash when I saw him appear from around the corner walkway. Something told me to drop the trash, get out of the semi-enclosed dumpster area, make it to the car post haste.

I did so and was at the door of the car when I heard him from inside the dumpster area say, "Where did you go?"

He went in there looking for me.

When he came out of the dumpster area, continued down the walkway, he looked over, saw me at the car door, began babbling something, but did not approach as I locked myself in the car.

Then, on Friday, returning from the Pain Cave and market, arms loaded with workout gear and groceries, I was halfway across the parking lot when I saw him coming towards me. He’d walked through the open side of where the cars drive through, eyes locked on me, coming fast, directly towards me.

If my arms had been free, I could have kept him at bay with one of my tools. Not having that option, him now almost in my face, I yelled "GET AWAY FROM ME!" and swung one of my bags at him.

He immediately walked away.

I should have dropped everything and followed to see where he lives, or at least taken a photo of him, so I can report him to management.

He’s probably not dangerous, just another resident with issues that management, in its desperation to fill one of many vacant units, allowed in; but I’m on guard now to get a photo of him next time, get him identified, find out what his issue is, have management talk to his social worker, caregiver or whoever he lives with, have them explain that he is to stay away from that Black lady he's been trying to communicate with.