During our travels, we once lived in Fairfax County, Virginia, a pretty swanky suburb outside of the nation’s capital of Washington, DC. We were within walking distance to Old Town Alexandra, a historical, and amazing shopping and dining area. We rented a condo in a pretty large development near the Potomac River. It was super tiny at just 850 square feet and $1500/month (and that was a steal), but we made it home for two of the four years we lived in VA. There were six condos to each building, and there were courtyards and quads that lead you up to the front door. There was no access unless you had a key or were buzzed in. We lived on the third floor and there were no elevators, just stairs.
On Thanksgiving Eve, T.J. and I decided to stay home and celebrate together, just the two of us and our pets. The previous year we had found that traveling during Thanksgiving week is insane, and we vowed to never do it again.
We had gone grocery shopping, and I was going to cook my first turkey…ever. I was excited and nervous to prepare my first Thanksgiving feast. I had everything prepped and ready to go for the big day. We watched a movie that night and went to bed.
We awoke just a few hours later to the sound of our door buzzer. Someone wanted to come into the building. My heart was racing. We went to the window to see who it might be, but we couldn’t see the front door from our angle. Maybe one of our neighbors had locked themselves out? T.J. went to the call box and called down to see if they would respond. A voice said, “we locked ourself out and we need to get in”. We hadn’t heard this voice before so we did not buzz them in. No one else did, either. We hoped they didn’t try to just open the main door, because it never latched securely.
No luck. We heard them coming up the stairwell and knocking and trying door handles. Then they were on the third floor. T.J. and I stood there as we saw the door knob jiggle.
I held a flashlight in one hand and my cell phone in the other. I had already called 911. My hands were shaking and my mind was racing. “We remembered to lock the door, but what if they had a gun? The door is steel. What if they pick the lock? …” No answer. This was not how I ever pictured our Thanksgiving eve. All the what ifs were crossing my mind.
T.J. looked through the peep hole and saw a woman with wiry hair trying our door, and then running to the neighbors’ door across the hall. No luck there either.
My guess is that these burglars were hoping that people were traveling for the holiday and might have left their doors unlocked or the doors were going to be easy to open. They were pretty nonchalant about it. T.J. yelled out the window, “I’m calling the cops.” The woman’s lookout replied, “Sure, go ahead, the number is 911.” They were long gone before the cops arrived. We played Uno until the sun came up. T and I have lived in some dicey areas, but we never thought that an attempted break-in would happen to us in Fairfax Co., one of the wealthiest counties in the country.
Now, we have two things to protect us while we are home or away. First, my trusty mace spray, and second our fire rated burglary safe. There is no way I want myself, my G, or my valuables to ever be vulnerable.
Now, T.J. and I joke about what could have been a very hairy situations. He says, “There was no way they were going to take away my Thanksgiving turkey.” This man does not let anyone mess with his food.
So how do you keep your home safe?
*This is a sponsored post written by me. These are true events that I will never forget. All opinions are my own and I only recommend products I believe would be a good fit for my readers.