cindarrr

So I wake up to my heiniously loud door bell ringing at 3:45 a.m.
I stagger up butt ass naked, pull on some garment on the floor, all the while ding dong, ding dong.
I walk up to my door window, pull donw the blinds to see some cracked out black dude on my porch.
He presses his face spasming against the window to try and look at me and says "Pat?! "PAT!"
I said clamly, whoever you are looking for does not live here, please leave.
He continues to shout.
In my angry and tired state I probably didn't make the smartest choice.
I opened the door and pushed him off my porch steps. Screaming get off of my fucking porch, Pat doesn't live here. I'm calling the police!
I should not be alive considering how many crack heads I must've pissed off in this nieghborhood by now.

THEN
I go to work, the first thing that happens is I get a call from another manager in the same area, who is calling to let me know that my employees are like messing around with eachother while at work?
I was like what?
One of them imparticular is bothering a lot of people by comming on to them and such.
We call the girl who alledgedly complained about the sexual harassment (to someone with no authority) and she acts like nothing has happened.
So now all of my bosses are in a fuss because they don't know what to believe, or who they want me to fire.
All the while I'm think, jesus, if one of these little bitches trys to incriminate me by outing me to my superiors i might fucking slit thier throat.
I mean realisticly I don't know why they would.
Noone there has a problem with my sexuality, and I have never suggested even hanging out with them platonically
but the whole thing makes me nervous.