Someone tried to steal Brook’s shell. I got home after a really long night of, first, drinking, and then, witnessing Jim Caviezel get in an horrendous car crash. Ray and Pat Rodman were at the party. I had eaten Burger King.
Got home and the door was open. I locked the inside back door, which was pointless anyway, because it’s screen had been knocked out.
Then I heard a noise, went into another room. Sure enough, here was an Asian dude—maybe half-black, half-Asian—standing with Brook’s shell in one arm and a manilla envelope containing—I think—my grades in the the other.
I threw a phone (with a cord) at him and hit him in the leg. Told him to get out. Got shell and envelope back. As he walked away I called him ***ger and he flipped me off.
When he got a little ways off I apologized for the remark. He came back to the steps in front of the houses. I told him how I got the shell in the Bahamas. He kept holding it up to his ear to he could listen to the sound it made.