text: When I was eighteen, I moved out of my parents’ place and into this big beat up house in the city with four of my best friends. The house was massive, which was awesome, but it was also located in literally the worst area imaginable. Just like the single most dangerous part of the city. So, with that in mind, I figured maybe I’d tell you a quick little funny story about something that happened to me while I was living at this house with my buddies. And I’ll try my best to keep it short. Okay. So, again, I was eighteen. However, the friends I moved in with were all a year or two older than me. Therefore, sometimes they’d travel across the nearby border to Canada where you could drink at 19. And I did have a fake ID, but I still only looked about eleven, so I’d usually just hang back. And I’d simply hope that they’d return with, ya know, like some bitches or whatever. So, one Friday night, I got home at like 1am or so. My roommates were all in Canada. I figured I’d just chill and get blazed out while waiting for them to return. I started smoking weed and practicing my Mario Kart skills for a while. Now it was probably just shy of 2am. It was springtime out, first warm night we’d had in a while. I already had all the windows open. I decided to head out onto my front porch to smoke a cigarette. And that’s when the second most frightening thing to ever happen to me while I l lived at this house occurred. I stepped onto my front porch. I lit my cigarette. And I turned to sit down on the chairs we had out there. BUT...there was a dude. A scary dude. Just sitting there. A scary dude just sitting there on my porch. A big, very intimidating, bouncer at a nightclub looking, scary dude, just sitting there, on my porch. Now, if it’s not clear, I had no fucking clue who this scary dude was. He really was just a random guy sitting on my porch in the worst part of the city at two o’clock in the morning. And, keep in mind, I was home alone...and now high as fuck. So, ya know, I was kinda frightened. I figured he might rob me. Or hurt me. Or...worse. But I tried to hide my panic. And I just said... “Hey. What’s uhh what’s up, buddy?” “Hey man, sorry,” he responded. “I just really needed to sit down for a second.” I was like, “Oh... ... ...alright.” He was like, “Smells like you’ve been smoking something good inside.” “Maybe...” I replied cautiously. He just laughed. And then he pulled out a joint. So, I don’t remember much about what transpired over the next hour or so. But I know that when my friends finally got back from Canada; they found me and scary dude sitting inside, fucking with some Mario Kart together. I recall my one drunken buddy shouting, “Who the fuck is this guy?!” And me just being like, “Don’t worry about it; he’s cool.” So scary dude stuck around for another hour or so, but then he left. And then I told my friends about how I’d met him on our front porch earlier that night. And they all, naturally, flipped the fuck out on me. Like, Ian, why are you letting random dudes into our house?!? He’s gonna come back and rob us!! Or hurt us!!! Or...worse!!! And, like, I had to admit they had some good points. Probably shouldn’t be letting random scary dudes inside. So, for the next few weeks, my friends were all pissed at me, and they all just insisted on being super careful to lock our doors and look over our shoulders. I kept telling them not to worry about it because he was cool. But they were still convinced scary dude would return one day. And...sure enough...about a month later... We were having a party. A big party. We’d had a shitload of parties at our house, but this was like the biggest one ever. There were so many fucking people there. I was squeezing my way through the hallway when I saw a commotion going on by the front door. I finally reached the entrance, and then I looked up to see the last person I was hoping to see... A cop. Scratch that, a fucking shitload of cops. They said, “Do you live here?” I said, “Yeah.” They spun me around and put me in handcuffs saying they were sick of breaking up our underage drinking parties. They shouted asking who else lived in the house. And I just watched as my four best friends and roommates all kept their mouths shut. Like dicks. So the cops drove me down to the station. As they were bringing me inside, they told me it was a super busy night, and that I shouldn’t plan on leaving the holding cell until the following morning. As we approached the holding cell; I saw 12 to 15 men already standing inside of it. And they saw me. And that’s when the top most frightening thing to ever happen to me occurred. A big biker looking guy, right by the cell door, looked at me square in the eyes, and just said, “You’re sleeping next to me tonight.” I was like, “Oh fuck.” The cell door opened, the cops shoved me inside, the biker guy licked his lips and immediately went to grab me... But then... “DON’T TOUCH HIM.” A loud voice boomed from the corner of the jail cell. I looked over. And I saw my hero. Scary dude. “What do you care about this little punk?” biker guy yelled back. “Don’t worry about it,” scary dude replied. “He’s cool.” THE END Thanks for reading, you guys.