So today I went to the gym, my workout was pretty typical. After I was finished, I put my phone in my jacket pocket and started to ride my bike home. I stopped at Target, I picked up stuff to cook dinner and I started home again. I saw an ambulance go by, followed by lots of cops~ I thought nothing of it. After I arrived home, I started cooking while talking to my roommate and I heard my phone ring from somewhere in the house. started digging for my phone, but when I saw it was only my mother, I turned the ringer off and threw it on the chair. I’d call her back later.
I was in the freezer looking for the shrimp I knew I’d bought at one point or another when I heard my phone ring again~ Dammit, Mom. I ignored it again, but she would not stop calling. You know how moms are when they want to talk to their children. I couldn’t find the shrimp, so I figured I might as well answer it: “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
But it wasn’t my Mother.
“Is this Brianne Sloan?” a male voice asked sternly and I mumbled something in agreement before he continued. “This is Sergeant So and So with St. John’s County Sherrif’s Office. Are you all right?”
What the sh**?
He told me that my mother had called the police frantically, hysterical and crying because something horrible had happened to her daughter. He went on about this for awhile, but I wasn’t really following. I hardly understood anything and laughing, I told him I was going to hang up and call my mother. He said, “No, I’ll just put you through so I can monitor anything you say.” Next thing I knew, I heard heavy breathing and panicked sobbing.
“Mom?” I asked, unsure of what was happening.
“Bri!?” she exclaimed joyfully. “Oh, my sweet Jesus!!! Dear God in heaven! You’re okay? Nothing happened? You’re alive?”
About this time, three worried cops showed up at my front door. It was nice to know people cared, but I still had no idea what was going on. I dismissed the cops and picked the phone back up to talk to my mother, but there was no one there. I was talking to my roommate about how baffled I was, when I heard the front door slam and someone running up the stairs. All of a sudden, my mother ran into my kitchen and threw her arms around me, sobbing uncontrollably and covering me with kisses. “Oh, my baby! You’re okay, you’re alive! My girl is okay! Thank you for sparing her, oh sweet Jesus! She lives alone and she attracts stalkers, so many things could befall my poor baby! But she’s all I’ve got! Call your grandma, Bri . . . she’s having a heart attack!”
What the heck? Are you doing drugs, Mom?
Once she calmed down, she and my brother (who wasn’t half as frenzied as she was) kindly explained to me what had happened: Do you remember when I told you I passed an ambulance and some cop cars? Well, APPARENTLY my jacket pocket chose that exact moment to randomly dial my mother and all she heard were sirens and breathing and ME saying “Help! Help!”, though she must have imagined that one. I called her two more times and wouldn’t say anything, so my brother grabbed the phone and said, “Brianne, if you can hear me, press the buttons!”
Apparently my jacket pocket’s really talented.
She tried to call me a few more times, but as I mentioned, I was ignoring her calls. Of course this led her to believe I was in a ditch somewhere and quite naturally she got in the car and raced to St. Augustine, blowing up my phone the whole way. When I didn’t answer, she phoned the police because OF COURSE ignoring my mother’s calls meant I was dead.
So here’s to an evening that I really didn’t understand! And to a family that obviously loves me!
Thanks for looking out for me, Mom!