I coulda been killed

So not more than 15 minutes ago, Im on the phone with ABG, having woken her up, 12 30 Boston time, to announce my triumphant return to America and to harass her about her whereabouts (other than fast asleep in bed). Not a second after getting off the phone with her do I hear footsteps and the screen door creaking open. Tom back from Japan two days early? Noooo...some strange ass dirtbag walking down the hallway into the kitchen. WTF? I get up, fold my laptop under one of Tom's 15 lb brocade silk shantung throw pillows and go "Hey, hey, what the fuck are you doing here?" I said this after slowly turning the corner, cautiously, to make sure the piss ant didnt have a weapon. He smelled a bit like alcohol but he was clearly high on something else. Prolly meth. It s the area. "I'm looking for the stuff, man. The stuff, at the place." He's trying to walk into the livingroom but I block him and turn him around. "Ya, there's no stuff here." Unless he was talking about Orientalia or Gathie Falk sculptures, there's no stuff here. I push him out the door, lock it, run to the kitchen and lock the door. I was always weary about leaving the front door open but it was warm and muggy and there was a nice breeze passing from the front to the back door. Along with a breeze, open doors also bring drug addicts. He was hanging around the front gate for a bit and I opened the door asking him, once again, "Why the fuckd you come in?" Same response. "There's no stuff here" I repeat. "Okay, okay, then there isnt. Fine. Ok." And he sounded pissed too. Like *I* was inconveniencing him. Piece'a shit fuckhead! I called the police and gave them a description. "Was it a white guy?" 911 asked. "Ya. White guy. Tall. Over 6 feet. Thin. Short black hair. Shorts. Light grey shirt. Backpack. Day's growth. He was running on 19th towards Fraser." Fuck. How typical? My last nite in East Van and a fucking junkie strolls through my living room. How much more Vancouver can this be? Well, if I had some sage to burn, I guess. Wouldnt that justa been perfect? I beat my tennesis, crawling back from a 2-5 deficit, 2-5 people!!!2-5!!!and then I get murdered. Ugh. I hope they catch him. I feel all aggressive. How am I gonna sleep?