From my bedroom just now, I heard a girl outside, just under my window, shrieking. “Don’t touch me! Help! Somebody help!” I jumped up, grabbed my gun and my phone, and dashed out the door.
It turns out some girl was just having a fight with her boyfriend, and she freaked out enough to draw a sizeable crowd in the 30 seconds following my hasty, armed exit. It appears that she purposely overdramatized for the purpose of getting attention, but I’m not sure.
Now that I’ve gone from 0-60 in five seconds flat, I’m full of adrenaline (though not as full as I’ve been before) just as I need to be going to sleep.