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My mother believes everything happens for a reason. She also believes in guardian angels. So it follows that sometimes things happen because of guardian angels. It has a certain supernatural logic. If you grew up Greek, it makes perfect sense.

My ersatz guardian angel’s name is Murphy, after Murphy’s Law. All true optimists believe in Murphy’s Law. We live in the best of all possible worlds…where everything that can go wrong, will. See, if you expect to be disappointed, you’ll either be right or pleasantly surprised. If you stay prepared, the dips in the rollercoaster ride are adventures instead of pill-popping pits of despair. You roll with the punches, and the knowledge that there will always be punches.

Sometimes Murphy does nice things for me, usually having to do with saving both my car and my life from the blind, deaf, and dumb wreaking havoc on the Tennessee highways. Most of the time, though, he’s just a pain in my neck who likes to mess with me.

Case in point: I, like any other introvert, need to rest and recharge after an extended period of “TA-DA!” exposure. Nothing drastic–just a few nights vegging in front of the TV with the phone unplugged, decent eating habits, and an early bedtime is usually enough to thwart the OMG HIDE IN THE BATHROOM! monster. Having a day job makes this a little more difficult, as one cannot avoid meetings and seminars and appointments and fires and phone calls. Especially the fires and phone calls. Most days, I sit at my desk and work through lunch. On the days with the fires and phone calls, I am forced to leave the building and go somewhere else, somewhere where “taking a break” means exactly that. Decompress and distress. Breathe. Make the rest of the world disappear and force my brain out of overdrive.

If it’s a nice day, I’ll go to the park. I’ll take a walk, or just roll down my windows and sit in my car and read. If it’s crummy weather, I might go shopping. On this particular day in question, I went to Target.

About a year ago, Smyrna got a Super Target. It’s a ridiculously huge store, but nothing as garish as Super Wal-Mart. If you want to pick up a CD, a picture frame, some hair care products, and something for lunch, you’re all set. There’s even a Starbucks. If I work in the Ivory Tower, Super Target is my Emerald City.

Correction…WAS my Emerald City. Suddenly, the staff at this particular location has become overly helpful. Oppressively helpful. I was looking forward to checking out the store, browsing at my leisure. This last time I went, I had NO LESS THAN EIGHT red-shirted staff members ask me if I was finding everything okay. One actually asked me two seconds after the girl in front of him had asked. Gee, what do you think, moron? Instead of responding, I mentally wished him on an Enterprise away team.

I didn’t feel like browsing; I felt like I was being chased out of the store. My shoulders somewhere around my ears, I gave up on trying to find the two or three things left on my list and ran immediately to check out, where I was asked the same question once again by the one person who’s supposed to ask. I tried not to cry.

Customer service, blah blah blah, I get it. I did my time in retail. I also believe in leaving people the hell alone. Pay attention. Body language tells you a lot. Five seconds can usually tell you if a person is browsing or searching frantically. Most people, if they’re lost or confused, will find an employee and ask. Especially when they’re so terribly easy to find (RED SHIRT!). Opening your mouth and spouting greetings like an automaton every time your motion sensor is tripped is not helpful. It’s just annoying. We have, well, automatons for that sort of thing.

In my already fragile state, it was all I could do not to run screaming from the store. I sat in the parking lot and hid there for the remainder of my lunch hour. I thought about moving the vehicle, just in case a concerned red shirt was tempted to stop by and knock on my window. All the while, I heard Murphy laughing like a maniac in the back of my head. Yeah. Thanks for nothing, jerk-wad. Is a place–ONE PLACE, besides the bathroom–to hide from the world too much to ask?

I thought about this several weeks later while sitting in the bathroom at home, surrounded by my laptop, teddy bear, pillow, and flashlight, waiting for the strange rain to stop falling from the green sky. Half an hour later, I was on the street meeting my neighbors and taking pictures of what was once the roof of the Boys & Girls Club down the street.

Okay, okay, I get it. The world’s coming in whether I want it to or not. Even the bathroom’s not sacred anymore.

Just recently, Murfreesboro made its name on the map as the new Tornado Alley. An F3 touched down for over 20 minutes, carving a wide swath through my cozy little town and causing millions of dollars of damage and a couple deaths. I was at work when it all went down. My whole body trembled with fear, as I drove home that night with no idea what I’d be going home to. Or if I’d be going home. I don’t like being scared. Not that scared.

I do have a house, intact. I also now have a car diagnosed with over $1000 of repairs, and a squirrel in my attic who’s decided to dine on my wiring, and an agent who’s fallen off the face of the planet. (What…you didn’t expect my life to be perfect, did you? Come on. If it was perfect, the story would be over and there’d be nothing left of me to tell.)

I was on the phone with my friend Chris this past weekend, trying to find a time to meet up while banging on the ceiling and demanding silence from my new workaholic upstairs neighbor. Under the racket, I heard Chris ask me if I had been affected by the recent rash of tornadoes. “Nope,” I said. “Not a tree down. Not even a broken limb in my yard. Nothing.”

“Wow,” said Chris. “You must have one hell of a guardian angel watching out for you.”

“Yup,” I said, pounding on the ceiling again. Thanks, Murphy.

You bastard.

Alethea Kontis’s first publication was her essay in Apex Digest issue #3. She is now the author of AlphaOops: The Day Z Went First and the official Sherrilyn Kenyon Dark-Hunter Companion, as well as co-editor of the SF all-star anthology Elemental. Find out more about Alethea’s own plans for world domination on her website: www.aletheakontis.com.

In June 2008, Apex Publications released a collection of essays and memoirs from Alethea titled Beauty & Dynamite that includes contributions from Brian Keene, Tom Piccirilli, and John Ringo.

Beauty & Dynamite can be bought in the Apex Shop or along with the rest of Alethea’s books in the Apex aStore.