The Joys of Apartment Living

Last night, I'm scrunched up on the couch watching a bunch of tooley guys attempt to sing well on American Idol, when I hear a loud and intrusive bang outside in the breezeway. The stairwell runs up and down the outside wall of my living room, and the noise sounded like someone fell down the steps, or was possibly pushed? I paused, but didn't think much of it. The occurrence of such noises are not unheard of when you live in an apartment.

A minute more, I hear angry voices, and they're growing louder. I hear something bang up against my own door. By this time, I've muted the television (not that I missed much with the poor sampling of AI talent), and I hear a woman's voice start yelling choice expletives at someone else, echoing through the breezeway.

Drama. I get up and walk to my door, and peer out the peephole. I see a man and a woman, both in their late 50s/early 60s, well dressed, screaming at each other. The woman appears to be really out of control and erratic, almost like she's sloppy drunk. The man is holding her back with force, keeping her away from the door opposite mine in the breezeway.

I'm watching all of this through the peephole in amazement. I've lived in the Aspen Bungalow for over three years now, and nothing like this has ever happened. The woman breaks free from the man and proceeds to bang hard against my neighbor's door. Very loudly. I hear more screaming and yelling, and more expletives, but at this point, I'm already on the phone with 911.

I've never called 911 before, and I wasn't terribly impressed with their accuracy and speed in processing my call. First of all, it rang several times before anyone picked up. Once I told the operator where I was and what was going on, he asked me to repeat it all a second time. Then, the phone sounded like it went out for a minute, and I said "hello?" and, the operator said that he was transferring me to the local system. I got another operator and I had to repeat the whole thing another time. Finally, I was told that someone was on the way. It wasn't a very efficient process and I'm really glad I wasn't laid out on my kitchen floor or something.

Anyway--- during the entire five minute 911 phone call, the screaming, yelling, and banging is still going on. I have no idea where this is coming from, as I don't know my across the hall neighbors. They've lived there for at least six months, but I've never once laid eyes on them.

I sit back down on the couch and quietly wait. A few minutes later, I hear a knock on my door, and I'm up like lightning. The peephole doesn't allow me to see who it is, so I ask who it is, and I hear "Franklin Police" on the other side. I open the door, and he asks if everything is okay, and I explain that it's not my apartment, but the apartment across from me, as I point to the opposite door. Way to go with the details, 911.

I close the door as he turns to the opposite door and knocks. I'm watching through the peephole as a different man and woman open the door, along with another police officer inside. The officer disappears. I'm glued to the peephole, and a few minutes later, the two officers emerge. One disappears toward the parking lot, and the officer that originally knocked on my door knocks again.

He asks to come in, and asks me to tell him what I saw and to describe what the couple looked like. He tells me that it's some kind of "ex-wife drama." In the meantime, the other officer comes into my apartment and says that she didn't see anybody out in the parking lot. We talk a few minutes more. Bastard Cat Jack is rolling and wallering around in the middle of the floor, and the police officers began to crack jokes about him. I thank them for coming so quickly, and then they exit.

My night picks up much where it started. I finish out the last half-hour of American Idol, with a yawn, and then I'm off to bed.