Scaredy Cat

Being scared is such a thrill isn't it? We love to go to scary movies, haunted houses, and rollercoasters all for that heart-racing, stomach-dropping high. We tend to seek out these activities, but if someone scares us intentionally then that is just not cool. Not cool for the scaree, but hilarious for the scarer. I think I may be making up words now. Growing up, my sisters and I loved to stand outside the bathroom door waiting to jump out at each other. It just doesn't get better than that. Blood-curdling shrieks are unleased, faces are distorted beyond recognition, and hands clench up in fists as if going to defense mode. You think that we'd grow out of this at some point, but it was just a month or so ago when Baby Spice attacked again. (That's my youngest sis for those that may not know.)

Operation: Give Trista a stroke happened about 8 years ago. I was living in GhettoBriar and had grabbed a bite to eat with my roomie one friday evening. Upon entering our apartment, I had just waltzed into the living room while chatting it up when I turned around and noticed my roomie standing frozen in the doorway. She was barely able to point and mutter "whiteboard". I looked into the kitchen...there was a message on our board....we're in your house! I think I may have passed out. After I regained conciousness and my sight my roomie asks:

-What do we do?
-I don't know!
The phone rings. I stupidly answer it. I can only hear heavy breathing. I hang up.
- Let's go!
-But someone's in our house!
Phone rings again. The stereo in my room comes on full blast.

I'm surprised I didn't break an ankle bolting down the stairs, but now we are in the parking lot. My roomie is crying hysterically and I'm looking concerned at our apt with the door wide open. We're dumb girls and have no idea what to do. So we decide to drive over to a friend's apt that's only 4 buildings away. Just as we are driving out onto the street we see 3 guys running after us. I'm terrified and have lost the ability to move. I start to recognize them as they get closer. I step out of the car and break down in tears when I realize that they are so-called friends of mine. They are in stitches, falling all over themselves laughing at how hilarious they are. They aren't. I'm fuming at this point and apologies are made. They're lucky I'm not smart enough to call the cops. I made the mistake of telling them that our door locks sucked and that they could be opened with a credit card. Apparently, they were just paying me a visit when they saw us leave. They let themselves in and hid in my bedroom. I share this as an example of how situations can be taken too far. I can laugh at this now, but only after many years of torment. I'll just stick to the simple yet effective bathroom scaring method.