Most people get only one chance to live. I’ve been blessed. I got two and I’m on my second round right now. It is an interesting story and one worth writing about. Many people get a second chance at life when they suffer a heart attack and survive. In my case I dodged a bullet.
I was feeling like cooking this past weekend, so I invited my friend J who has been craving Sri Lankan food over for dinner started making some pol roti, kiri bath, pol sambol, lunu miris, some parripu and beef curry. I digress, but the food actually came out really well He came over and we were chit chatting for a bit before sitting down to eat.
A little while through dinner I got up to change the CD on the stereo and stood by the system and was chatting to him before heading back to the table and sitting down to eat. About 30 seconds or so after I sat down we both heard a loud bang and as I turned around saw a cloud of smoke and dust in my living room. My first thought was that my stereo had blown, but wait; I can still hear my music. I turned my head and noticed a hole in my living room wall that separated my apartment from my neighbor. That’s when it dawned on me that what I had heard was a gun shot. Just 30 seconds before I had been standing exactly in front of where the hole now was. 30 seconds earlier and my brains would have been splattered all over my living room.
J and I immediately hit the floor, Sri Lankan instincts kicking in and called 911. Needless to say about 10 minutes later the cops came, and went to investigate what had next door as the shot had clearly come from the adjoining apartment.
We heard a lot of shouting and the sound of hand cuffs being clicked on someone and finally the cops came back and filled us in on what had happened. My overly smart neighbor was playing/cleaning his rifle (which was not registered) and forgot to check if it was loaded. It was loaded and so it went off, the bullet went through our adjoining wall, missed my head by 30 seconds fragmented, hit the opposite wall, went through the opposite wall into my bedroom and the police found shrapnel embedded in the opposite wall in my bedroom.
Apparently my neighbor had tried to stuff the bullet hole on his side with creme cheese???
He was arrested and the gun was taken into custody. Since no one was hurt, all they can really put on him is recklessness and possession of an unregistered weapon, which is nothing at all really. Life goes on, I guess.
The irony in this and what makes the whole incident humorous is that 23 years growing up in Sri Lanka, survived a bunch of years in New York and the closest I come to getting shot at is in Palo Alto, California!
In the meanwhile I am happy I am still alive.