Imagine you’re Keanu Reeves. You’re famous. You know that people want a piece of you wherever you go. So with some foresight, you build your house a bit like a fortress. Impregnable. With around the clock security, CCTVs and so on.
And then you walk into your library one evening to find a strange woman sitting in the chair, reading a book. You ask her who she is. She tells you. It is obvious to you that she isn’t all right in the head. So you call the police, do the right thing, tell them not to arrest her, to get her help.
Now before the week is out, another woman walks into your house in broad daylight. For some reason the door is unlocked. (What is the point of building your house like a fortress if you leave the door open?) The housekeeping staff doesn’t recognise her as an intruder at first. They think she is one of your lady friends. The woman strips, takes a shower, and enters your pool for a swim. It is then that your cleaning ladies figure that something is wrong and they call you. You, of course, call the police.
Again you do the right thing and ask the police not to mishandle the woman, because she’s obviously out of her mind too. You go back to working on your movies, and at the end of the day you come home, check your house for intruders, and then retire to your bedroom. After a while you go to sleep.
We know. It must be hard to be you, isn’t it?