9...1...1...

three numbers in a row. three numbers that hold a lot of meaning. three numbers that you learn at a very young age. on their own they are nothing but put them together and they provide the number for an emergency. fear runs through your heart if you accidentally dial the number. but for the first time in my life, i called it on purpose.

story time.

its friday night. it was an efy mini reunion night. rachel came down from chicago and tambrea came up from richfield. the night started at gurus were we consumed our body weight in sweet potato fries and laughed out heads off. what caused such laughter. well lots of things. one being the fact at one point we realized we were causing a scene as we all were yelling. there was live music which makes volume control hard. but we were full out yelling at one point. we talked about life, and updates in our personal lives. quotes from the night: "it was thin as crap" "i didn't know crap was thin", "you're like mother theresa on the runway". side note: friday night is date night in provo making parking impossible to find.

the night continued at a birthday party for an efy friend where we met up with the lovely morgan jones. side note: the trunk of my car is somehow broken. it wont open. devil. but the party was grand, even though we were only their for sub 15 minutes. eric made fun of us for never taking our coats off.

so the whole 911 part. what happened? are you on the edge of your seat yet?

so we are back at my apartment catching up on Morgan's life, when all of a sudden, clear as day we hear someone yelling outside. and not happy yells. f-bombs were flying like he was in a war. we turn off the lights and ran to the window. we saw people from the creepy house across the street walking back in. we sat there wondering what we should do when Rachel, who is besties with the Provo Police said to call them just to make sure everything is okay. so folks. i called 911. told them what we had heard and seen. they sent a car. the car drove past. came back. drove past. eventually stopped (we were all giving a commentary from the window). He got out of his car. looked around the house. got back in. drove away. yes, that's right they never even knocked on the door. We didn't feel very safe needless to say. So we watched Courageous, a movie about good cops. It's actually an extremely good movie, I highly recommend it.

and that is the story of the first time I called 911.