perfect murder setting

It’s just after 2am. I am 23 yr old female, sitting alone in the library waiting on the maintenance guy to show up. (Just before closing someone reported a large puddle of water leaking from under the doors of one of our maintenace closets.) I have left one of the library doors unlocked, so the maintenance guy can get in.
Hrm… 2:15. Maintenance guy shows up. Rather creepy looking guy… big scruffy beard. He heads upstairs to check out the leak. Meanwhile I sit down here tapping away.
What are the odds I’ll make it through the night?


(On a side note: getting up at 6am tomo-- er later today is sure gonna be fun. But my perfect wedding is going to make up for all this, right?)

2:30am Man, its getting hot in here. I wonder if the A/C does an auto switch-off or if its just broken (thus, the water leak?). Anyway, I think I am going to go lock that last door since the guy is here and all.

(In case you’re wondering-- Yes, the maintenance guy has keys to the building, but No, he does not know how to activate/deactivate the building alarm. So, I’m stuck here until he’s done.)

Well, it appears the condeser(?) drain is stopped up, causing the leak. They will come out tomorrow and fix it. (How did I know he was going to say that?) Fan has been turned off to stop leak and water is cleaned up.

It appears I am not going to be murdered tonight…

Or am I? There’s still that long walk to the parking lot.

(tune in tomorrow to hear the less than exciting conclusion to this very mundane and pointless thread)

Well? Well?

Actually, I frames the maintainence guy.

Bwahahaahahahahahahahah!!!’

I, as founder and president of Bearded Entities Angry Regarding Discrimination (BEARD), I implore you to stop describing someone as creepy simply because they have a beard. As government statistics clearly show, clean-shaven men are much more likely to carry dangerous objects such as razors, making bearded men relatively safe to be around.
Besides, beards are so cute and fluffy! Think of a beard as a chin-kitten.

(The moral of the story is: BK needs sleep.)

As I walked through the parking lot, I kept hearing skittering noises behind me. I turned around, but no one was there-- just leaves blowing along the sidewalk. I crossed the street and sprinted under the dreaded shade trees expecting the usual Hitchcock/The Birds scene, but the birds were quiet-- maybe too quiet? I was almost home free now. I made it to my car, quickly unlocked the door, hopped in, and locked the door. (Whew, safely avoided the Achilles tendon slashers.) I turned and checked the back seat for axe-wielding mass murderers-- all clear-- and proceeding to drive home. There was a tense moment as I stopped at the never-ending red light, but the light changed before any car-jackers lurking at the intersection could make their move. So around 4am, I finally fell into bed, safe and secure, as my keys dangled from the lock on the outside of my door. Oops.