I was staying in a drive-up motel with my 74-year-old mom (at the time). The manager didn't stay on property overnight. They didn't have phones in the rooms. My cell couldn't get a signal in the mountains. This was in a little coal town called Manchester, KY. Population? One McDonald's. I was awakened at 2 AM in the morning to some jamoke banging on the door yelling, "Open this ****ing door!!!" Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!!!! "****ing hell. Open the God-damned door, bitch!!!!" More banging. I had a loaded .38 on the nightstand.
So I opened the door and shot him in the head. I was scared.. Oh, wait, or was it I opened the door and damn! My gun accidentally shot her in the head. Yeah, that's it. My gun did it.
Not.
Hell, I could even imagine the conversation with the sheriff when he finally came: "Sheriff!! I was scared to death!!! So I threw open the door and shot him. Anybody would have done it. Are you nutz??
What did I do? I shook off the cobwebs, figured he was drunk, turned on the light, picked UP my gun and yelled, "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG ****IN' ROOM. GET THE **** OUT OF HERE."
My reasoning? Even scared and half asleep? I've got all the power in my hand here. There's one of you, drunk. And one of me, armed. Come thru that door and you're dead. Open the door to him? Really???? Not on his life.