Story time because this thread was a total let down:
I actually did experience something real similar to this joke once. I was heading down into the basement and each time I take a step, I can see farther into the basement/more of the floor space.
Well I took a step and saw a pair of black dress shoes come into view in the middle of my basement. Couldn't see above them because the stairway's ceiling was in the way. My first thought is that someone left their shoes in the middle of the basement.
With my next step I can see socks in the shoes. My first thought is someone rolled up their socks and left them in their shoes... only they weren't rolled up- there were ankles in them. I managed to take one more step and see the hem of pants floating over the ankles and I stopped.
No one should be in the house.
I called out assuming it to be a family member. I waited ten seconds. Silence. The person didn't move. I ran back up the stairs and shut the door. I called through the door, letting the person know I was getting the shotgun and they better be out of there when I get back. I ran to the other side of the house and took out the shotgun. I listened for sounds of the person leaving as I loaded shells. Silence.
I racked the shotgun.
I slowly worked my way out of the bedroom and cut all the corners, scanning each room without entering, working my back to the basement through the hall and kitchen area. The basement door was still shut. I thought to call the police but I figured, what for- I have a pump action 12 gauge. lol. So I called out again that I had the gun and I was coming down, that now was your last chance to surrender. Of course- no response.
I came down slowly. When I got to the step where I was before, I half expected to see the person still standing there, from the hem of the pants down. I had a very uneasy feeling. I'm not scared of people- but all this silence- felt wrong. I checked everywhere in the basement. Checked all the small, ground level windows. Checked the closets and all the hiding spaces. No one down there.
Now I believe they got past me and are hiding in the house. My heart starts picking up a bit as I realize whoever it is, they are playing games with me. It occurs to me that possibly this is not a simple burglar with bad luck in picking houses. It's possible this is a serial killer or some other kind of crazy.
Very carefully I check each room, slow, silent, thorough. It became hard to hold onto the gun because my hands were sweating so bad. The search had taken about 20 minutes. It's not a big house. I was just being very careful. The last place I looked was the worst because I was certain I would find someone jumping out at me. I was even more terrified when no one did.
My mind was racing in different directions now trying to rationalize what had happened. Was anyone there? Was I hallucinating? I saw what I did plain as day. I started at it for more than 10 seconds while waiting for a response. I've had hallucinations later in life from sleep deprivation. They come from the edge of your vision mostly, your peripherals, or they only last a brief moment until you can focus your tired eyes. This wasn't it. I focused on those shoes, socks and pant legs. The shoes were black leather and shined. The socks were a light pistachio color. The pants a dark brown with darker brown threading. I couldn't have hallucinated.
I got frustrated. I got scared. I yelled out that whoever was in here better get the hell out right now. I screamed and cursed them and swore if they didn't leave that they would regret it. I yelled until my breath gave out.
It was then, when I was trying to get my breath back that I started to hear foot steps across the basement floor. They came up the steps slowly. My eyes were wide and I slowly aimed the shotgun at the basement door. The foot steps kept coming. They were still coming and the door didn't open. They were so close. They were in the room. The sound was in the room. The person was not. They came closer. I became cold. Then I felt an electric shock and rush of wind through my hair. The foot steps were behind me now. Walking away. Walking towards the front door. I actually heard the sounds of a front door creaking open. Our door is well oiled and does make such a noise. But it was not our door that opened and at that point I wasn't surprised.
When I heard the phantom door crash close, I assumed whatever it was had left. But after an experience like that- who the hell knows. I moved into the center of the living room because it was the largest. I sat down, hunched on the floor with my teeth chattering, cradling the gun, looking in all directions for the next hour until someone came home and found me.
Of course- no one believed me. Nothing like that ever happened again in this house.
I actually did experience something real similar to this joke once. I was heading down into the basement and each time I take a step, I can see farther into the basement/more of the floor space.
Well I took a step and saw a pair of black dress shoes come into view in the middle of my basement. Couldn't see above them because the stairway's ceiling was in the way. My first thought is that someone left their shoes in the middle of the basement.
With my next step I can see socks in the shoes. My first thought is someone rolled up their socks and left them in their shoes... only they weren't rolled up- there were ankles in them. I managed to take one more step and see the hem of pants floating over the ankles and I stopped.
No one should be in the house.
I called out assuming it to be a family member. I waited ten seconds. Silence. The person didn't move. I ran back up the stairs and shut the door. I called through the door, letting the person know I was getting the shotgun and they better be out of there when I get back. I ran to the other side of the house and took out the shotgun. I listened for sounds of the person leaving as I loaded shells. Silence.
I racked the shotgun.
I slowly worked my way out of the bedroom and cut all the corners, scanning each room without entering, working my back to the basement through the hall and kitchen area. The basement door was still shut. I thought to call the police but I figured, what for- I have a pump action 12 gauge. lol. So I called out again that I had the gun and I was coming down, that now was your last chance to surrender. Of course- no response.
I came down slowly. When I got to the step where I was before, I half expected to see the person still standing there, from the hem of the pants down. I had a very uneasy feeling. I'm not scared of people- but all this silence- felt wrong. I checked everywhere in the basement. Checked all the small, ground level windows. Checked the closets and all the hiding spaces. No one down there.
Now I believe they got past me and are hiding in the house. My heart starts picking up a bit as I realize whoever it is, they are playing games with me. It occurs to me that possibly this is not a simple burglar with bad luck in picking houses. It's possible this is a serial killer or some other kind of crazy.
Very carefully I check each room, slow, silent, thorough. It became hard to hold onto the gun because my hands were sweating so bad. The search had taken about 20 minutes. It's not a big house. I was just being very careful. The last place I looked was the worst because I was certain I would find someone jumping out at me. I was even more terrified when no one did.
My mind was racing in different directions now trying to rationalize what had happened. Was anyone there? Was I hallucinating? I saw what I did plain as day. I started at it for more than 10 seconds while waiting for a response. I've had hallucinations later in life from sleep deprivation. They come from the edge of your vision mostly, your peripherals, or they only last a brief moment until you can focus your tired eyes. This wasn't it. I focused on those shoes, socks and pant legs. The shoes were black leather and shined. The socks were a light pistachio color. The pants a dark brown with darker brown threading. I couldn't have hallucinated.
I got frustrated. I got scared. I yelled out that whoever was in here better get the hell out right now. I screamed and cursed them and swore if they didn't leave that they would regret it. I yelled until my breath gave out.
It was then, when I was trying to get my breath back that I started to hear foot steps across the basement floor. They came up the steps slowly. My eyes were wide and I slowly aimed the shotgun at the basement door. The foot steps kept coming. They were still coming and the door didn't open. They were so close. They were in the room. The sound was in the room. The person was not. They came closer. I became cold. Then I felt an electric shock and rush of wind through my hair. The foot steps were behind me now. Walking away. Walking towards the front door. I actually heard the sounds of a front door creaking open. Our door is well oiled and does make such a noise. But it was not our door that opened and at that point I wasn't surprised.
When I heard the phantom door crash close, I assumed whatever it was had left. But after an experience like that- who the hell knows. I moved into the center of the living room because it was the largest. I sat down, hunched on the floor with my teeth chattering, cradling the gun, looking in all directions for the next hour until someone came home and found me.
Of course- no one believed me. Nothing like that ever happened again in this house.
