As The Happy Mondays would say…“Call the cops!”
Actually, last night I had the cops called on me! It is quite an honor really, as it has never happened to me before. Sure I’ve been caught up with some people when the police showed up for various reasons while in high school and college, but somehow I always got out of ever having to be cuffed, put in the back of a squad car, or give a have my name appear on a police report. I’ve also been the one to call them on a few occasions and they were always so happy I was sane and calm, instead of acting a fool. I like police and they like me, we get each other — so it seems.
I should explain. My next door neighbor is a paranoid schitzo. I never even knew anyone lived next door to me until one day a memo appeared under my door stating she didn’t like people hovering around her front door talking about her and making comments about her quiet lifestyle (huh?). All was in fact quiet, and for the past year I thought she might have moved out. Keep in mind I have never even seen this woman let alone had a conversation. Then, last week as I came home from grocery shopping — 2 minutes after I shut the door — I hear her screaming saying she was going to beat my white ass if I didn’t get away from her door and stop talking smack. I thought she was talking to imaginary people quite honestly. Honky this, whitey that, cracker-ass-cracker. Yeah it was fun. I just figured she was having a bad day and her meds were changed — or something.
Then last night as my husband and I are in bed and there was sudden banging at the door — the kind that jolts you, and actually kind of scares the crap out of you. Husband kept asking who it was, and no answer — so when he yelled to the person they must have the wrong apartment, we heard, “are you scared? are you scared? I bet you’re scared, I’ll call the cops on you!” and other not so fluffy remarks in-between. When I get threatened twice by someone who is paranoid banging on my door at midnight, I get the baseball bat because I don’t want some Son of Sam crap happening to me; the case of the two artists who were shot by a man with a similar condition here in Cleveland not long ago also came to mind. Anyways, we tried to go to sleep after this, and within 15 minutes the cops suddenly showed up (great response time for something DUM don’t you think?) knocking on our door. It was clear the police knew within 10 seconds that our neighbor was not right at all. So we stood talking with them privately, called the landlord (who she had accused of being a full on Nazi it seems), and we just sort of laughed about the whole thing while at the same time all of us were clearly annoyed by the woman’s actions. They liked my shirt, and they played with Milkshake by letting him chase their laser pointers. They told us that she had made it clear she planned to keep calling the police on us for anything and everything, and therefore we were to avoid her, talk quiet, tip-toe in and out of the elevator, and don’t open our door loudly with our keys as it clearly sets her off. Screw That! I am not changing my habits because someone isn’t taking their meds and might beat my honky white ass with who knows what! So we shall see, maybe about moving her to an apartment away from people and the elevator would be ideal. But yeah, that was a fun waste of time don’t you think? It kills me these cops showed up in 15 minutes whereas other friends will call them 3 or 4x and they never come at all.
I love my building, neighborhood and apartment and have been here 6 years, but maybe the Gods are telling us to buy a house? Between this neighbor, the pedophile my husband had kicked out and the bank robber living next door who the FBI raided our building for, maybe I should check this puppy out? WANT.