The Revenge of the Taturday Friend

As you may recall*, several weeks ago I had a visit from my Taturday friend, an incredibly innebriated man who showed up on a Tuesday morning (my version of Saturday) and tried to break the door down in search of a woman named Kristin. In the end I was victorious and he was in jail, but apparently that experience has imprinted in me the idea that anyone knocking at my door intends on breaking my door down. Fast-forward three weeks. I'm house-sitting at a friend's house. I'm all alone. It's 3:30 in the morning. I am awakened by a very desperate knocking at the door.