Too much excitement at the storage unit today. Yelling happened (not by us), threatening happened (not us), slamming doors and storming around in a huff happened (not us), cowering happened (us -- well, me, at least. Jonathan was pretty stoic through it all.). Gun fire did not happen, but it did occur to me that it very well might.

The issue was that the entry doors open with a PIN. The PIN keypads don't work 24 hours a day -- only during business hours, which start at 9:30. At 9:33 (no exaggeration) they were still not all working because they have some sort of technical glitch (the repair person is coming next week) and so the front office person has to individually activate each one when she gets in every morning and she wasn't quite finished doing all of them by 9:33 (I looked at the clock). And so this guy who was waiting completely lost his shit.

Thus the yelling and stomping around. A very tightly wound guy.

For a few minutes there, I felt real (and justifiable, given the culture of violence in the US and the ubiquity of guns) fear.

It puts a whole different spin on the leisurely pace of house-hunting in Italy. It will be refreshing to live someplace where people don't completely lose their minds when things don't happen instantly. And where things like "house hunting" don't happen with actual guns.

I wish I could say that Jonathan and I spent the time while this was going on kissing. But that didn't occur to me because I was so busy being worried (again, justifiably) that we would be hit in the crossfire. The next time, though, I will be better prepared and will instantly start kissing my husband. So if you hear that I was tragically gunned down by a maniac at a storage unit, please know that I will have gone out while doing what I love.