Friday night started out like most others. I try not to go out on Fridays. It’s my night to stay in, watch YouTube videos and sing along. 

Jon ventured out onto the roof to get a gander at the city in her star-spangled glory. He came in pretty quickly because he’s scared of heights and the only way down is on a rickety fire escape that is probably clinging to the exterior by the sheer power of rust. 

We started watching this horrible Jason Bateman/Melissa McCarthy movie that gaslit us with five minutes of funny followed by an hour or terribly unfunny. We wouldn’t finish the film. 

We heard a voice. It came from Jon’s room. From his window. A man entered from the fire escape. He was running from the cops. I wasn’t scared. I didn’t feel threatened. Just annoyed. But annoyance could wait because I had to get him out of my place without him hurting Jon or me. Or the cops hurting anyone. 

I gave him water. I cleaned the cut on his hand with hydrogen peroxide. I called him an Uber (he gave me cash) and when it wouldn’t come directly to the door, I walked with him down the street a block to make sure he was gone. Someone who knew him took it from there. 

On the way back to the apartment, I asked the crowd that had gathered at the bodega what I’d done and if I was safe. They said yes and that I’d been a Good Samaritan. 

Jon was quiet and maybe a bit shook, completely understandably. I asked the third floor neighbor to come up and talk me through what had happened and also just as a way for Jon to see that everything really was ok. She said there’s been a fight out on Marcus Garvey, that the cops had arrested the wrong guy, that the guy who ended up in my apartment had escaped by running into the trap house next door, into the backyard and up the fire escape. 

I really was ok but I didn’t want to be sitting at home with these thoughts, so I called up Mikey and told him I needed to get good and drunk. I told him to take care of me and make sure I got home safe. I can ask that of Mikey. I would never ask that of anyone else but him. He has this very protective masculine bear vibe that I dig.

Mikey agreed. 

I did get good and drunk ended up passing out on his couch. At one point he covered me with a blanket and told me he loved me. I felt it. I felt safe. I felt at home. He kept his word.