you bet it's saturday. time for another round of the confessional, and this story i love.

i love it because i'm nearly positive this sounds like something that could/would happen to me. that's just how that goes. 

a little business first - as always, if any of you fine gals have a confessional list or confessional story you want to share here on September FARM just shoot me an e-mail and we'll get you scheduled to take over on a saturday coming up very soon!

also...should you be feeling extra snazzy and you want others to enjoy these confessionals...feel free to grab the button below (HERE)!

okay...now go read the gorgeous danielle's confessional. enjoy now. gasp later. and then let's thank our lucky stars danielle is safe and sound, mmmk?
Hello lovely September Farm Readers! My name is Danielle and I blog over at Sparkles and Lattes. I am a lover of anything and everything with sparkle which means I have a bad shopping obsession. I am a wife, a mother to the cutest chiweenie, Walter, and football lover. I can’t start my day without a latte and I hate to end my day without a glass of red wine.
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I have some great stories from my past. Enough to fill up quite a few Saturday Confessionals. Like the time I went rafting with a friend who got so drunk that she lost my keys while floating the river and tried to beat me up on our raft. Or the time when a guy was too drunk at a party and he fell over the rail of the stairs and pulled me over with him, leading to me cracking my head open and tying my head shut with my hair. Or even my entire friendship with my roommate/friend who was a stripper, left her dildos out for all to see and even took a deuce on her exes car. But today’s confessional is the best and most entertaining. My confessional dates back to 2007-ish (I tried to erase some of this from my memory, so dates are fuzzy). All names have been changed to protect my favorites and not so favorite people.

Let me first give you a little background information. I used to work on my college campus (University of Nevada, Reno) in the Civil Engineering Department, and I dealt with grad students daily. There was one guy, Bob, who never really made a lasting impression. I knew who he was, saw him occasionally and worked with him a handful of times in the four years I was working there.
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My husband and I at a University of Nevada Wolf Pack football tailgate.

Fast forward to 2007. I was out of college, working at the job I have now and living with two roommates, Pat and Joe. One day while out on a run, I ran into Bob who come to find out was living right behind me.

A few weeks later, it seemed like a normal summer Saturday morning. I was sleeping in, Joe was sleeping in and Pat was up at the crack of dawn. I was rudely awoken by the police pounding on my bedroom door with orders to come out of my room with my hands up. Now in Nevada, summers can be pretty hot, so I tend to sleep in boy shorts and a sheer tank. Don’t worry, I would change or put on a robe before coming out of my room in front of my roommates. But without thinking, I opened the bedroom door in a haze.

I had four police men in swat gear pointing their guns at me asking me to turn around and put my hands on top of my head. I politely asked if I could put some clothes on, which they not so kindly denied. So there I was in little pjs, if you can call them that, being escorted out of my house in handcuffs with my roommates nowhere to be found.

As we are exiting the house my new neighbors and their parents are unloading the moving truck. These new neighbors were acquaintances of mine from college with parents in tow. Wonderful welcoming into the neighborhood. Girl gets lead out of house in a see through tank (ladies in full view in the morning sun), boy shorts and handcuffs while the entire neighborhood watches. Embarrassing to say the least.

One of my roommates was in the back of a cop car handcuffed, the other two houses down sitting on the curb and a mystery man in another cop car. I asked the police officer what was going on. He told me they received a call that someone was trying to break into the house and didn’t know who the suspect was. They needed to clear the house and sort things out.

Then they asked me if I was Danielle X and if I knew a Bob Y. I told them I vaguely remember him and recently learned he lived behind me. What happened next blew my mind. Apparently, Bob thought his drug dealers were coming to get him. He said they threatened him, so he ran out of the back of the house, jumped the fence and tried to get into our house for safety since I apparently told him he could come over any time.

Now the real story, Bob, the grad student got into meth and probably did have drug dealers coming after him. So he jumped the fence, tried to get into the sliding glass door and then tried the door that lead into the garage. All the while, Pat sees this going on and calls the police. He did forget to wake Joe and myself up and let us know what was going on.

When the cops arrived, they found Bob in the backyard with his pants down to his ankles pleasuring himself and mumbling who knows what. He claimed he knew me and everything was fine. Bob was arrested, my roommates and I were handcuffed (brutal bruises left on my wrist) and shamed and after an hour. we were eventually let back into OUR house. Though I did have to prove it was in fact our house even though the perp was caught pants down.

A few weeks later, the police men came back to our neighborhood to do a survey on safety and changes. Guess what was number one on our list?   Neighborhood safety.

Thank you for reading my Saturday Confessional.  Again, I hope you come check out my blog and follow along in my adventures with my husband and pup.

(I don't have any photos of this incident, so I threw in some that had some sort of relevance to the story. ie. campus photo, myself, etc.)