Things I Never Expected To See In Ann Arbor: Edition One

When I sat in my dorm last semester overlooking Kenmore Square and Fenway, I anticipated my future stay in Ann Arbor as nice, quiet and involving many cookouts. Ann Arbor rang similar to a cute older woman who used to be a hippy and now spends her days sleeping outdoors and making wacky crafts inspired by her younger, LSD-induced life. I also imagined trees. Lots of trees.

Ann Arbor feels relatively artsy I suppose. There are a fair amount of trees. My stay has been enjoyable. I was definitely not expecting the crime rate and sketchiness. Since my first week here I've heard stories of theft and robbery. (I'll tell you when I come home, mom and dad. It's ok.) I've been approached by every homeless person in the city. I've heard gunshots (though some claim they are fireworks) literally right outside my window.

But today took the cake.

8 AM: Standing at my desk preparing for work, I heard a strange rustling noise out my window. My spy senses activated and I stealthily pried one blind from another, peering through a sliver of exposed window. My eagle eyes located a man. Two feet from my window. In my bushes. A MAN IN MY BUSHES!

I stared for a while wondering what I should do, considering I had to leave for work and there was a stranger collecting stolen cans directly in my intentioned path to the bus. Will he attack me? Will he stab me with a secret aluminum knife fastened to his leg? Should I wake up my roommates and notify them of this development? I forgot I was still staring at him. I walked away from the window and paced the house. I decided to text Steve, only later realizing that it would be hard for him to come to my rescue from Worcester, MA.

By the time I finished preparing for work and prying open the blinds again, the man in the bushes was gone. This was my chance. I gathered my belongings and scurried out the door, phone in one hand, keys-evenly-distributed-through-fingers-and-ready-to-stab-if-prompted in another. He must have seen the rage in my eyes and hid because I made it to the bus unharmed. Wise move, creepy man. Wise move.

If I find another man in my bushes tomorrow, we're going to have problems.