Last Thursday morning, I drove to work, as usual.  When I arrived at the entrance to the parking lot at 7:30, I discovered I couldn't get in because it was being completely blocked by three cop cars.

Hmmmm.... I thought to myself.  What is up with that?  And how the heck do I get into the parking lot?

I had no choice but to continue past our parking lot and go around the block.  Fortunately, one of the security guards was standing outside at the corner telling people where to go.  He said if I went around and took the (creepy) back alley way, I could get into the lot.  So, I went around the block, but being my usual self, I completely missed my turn to and had to go back around again.  Awesome.

I'm not sure how I feel about that back alley.  It's right by a furniture warehouse and what I assume to be a parole or probation office.  Something like that.  There are always shady people walking back there, coming out from doing who knows what behind the dumpster.  And there are always shoes.  Before I moved to Albuquerque, I watched an episode of Extreme Home Makeover that was based here, and they said shoes were an indication of where and what type of drugs were being sold.  Nice.  One day, I saw a pair of black dress shoes hanging from a wire and three more pairs of black shoes lined up in a row on the ground underneath it.  I didn't stick around to see if any drugs would be dealt.

Anyway, off that tangent and back to my story...  Fifteen minutes after I first arrived, I finally made it to the parking lot gates, where I was told to sit in my car and wait for the all clear.  However, no one else was sitting in their cars, so I went to the closest group of people standing around to find out what was up. 

They told me that a "mysterious package" had been left outside the building and the bomb squad was bringing dogs and whatever else a bomb squad brings.  We waited outside for an hour for them to show up and x-ray the "package," which I later found out was a briefcase someone had left somewhere outside on the south end of the building. 

Finally, I got sick of waiting and went to get some coffee.  This turned out to be a bad idea, because I had coffee jitters for the rest of the day.  This is why I don't normally drink the stuff.  Or at least not that much of it. 

During the time I was gone, the bomb squad had given the all clear and everyone had been allowed back  into the building. 

The next day, I went to happy hour with some coworkers at a very cool but unfortunately pricey rooftop bar where I was informed that the briefcase had been empty.  I have no idea why someone would have left an empty briefcase.  Perhaps it was left there on purpose to freak people out.  Or maybe someone just got a new briefcase, emptied out their old one and forgot about it?  Who knows.  Maybe no one ever will.