Almost 2 weeks ago I told the story of the girl down the
hall from me. The mid-20 something year old girl who has a 5 year old who
doesn’t live with her and who I’ve never seen or heard in the building despite
her facebook page listing her as a “stay at home mommy”. Since my apartment is
the first one after the door and stairway, everyone who comes in and out passes
by me. I hear conversations I don’t want to hear. I get subjected to all kinds
of disturbances and annoyances that I would rather do without. In the first
story, I talked about how she’s 3 months or so pregnant and how her boyfriend,
who I think is the father, is a complete psychopath with no regard for anyone
or anybody. I told you about his arrest for trying to fight and rob people in
front of the building on Hertel
Avenue. What I’ve learned since then is that his
“job” appears to be trying to sell phones, jewelry and electronics to people.
Kind of a travelling salesman of the shady kind because who knows where he gets
these things. He pulled a guy off the street, brought him into the hallway and
sold him a “brand new” iphone right outside my door. He’s very violent,
belligerent and he’s so incredibly loud. I hear him screaming all the time,
whether he’s happy or upset. He’s unbalanced and lives every moment like it’s
his last… but in a bad way.
Now as for me I’ve been trying really hard to not get
involved, AT ALL. I’m not talking to anybody, I don’t want to see anybody and
I’m not going to go out in the hallway to politely ask a guy who was bragging
on the phone about his arrest to a friend, how he spit on all the police
officers and told them repeatedly to suck his dick. I’m not asking a guy who
was so proud that he had to be restrained in a special chair at the police
station, to please be considerate of other people in the building. After
listening to this guy for a few weeks, I have a pretty good idea of how that
conversation would go. He’d be defiant, insulting and probably try to fight me,
because how dare I step up to him like that, and then in a face to face,
disrespectful situation like that I’m afraid of what I might do. I don’t want
anyone to die, not me, not someone else. I just want to be a tenant in a
building occupied by rational, respectful ADULTS, not a target, or someone who
has to buy a gun so I can leave my apartment. I’m not going there. I have
enough darkness in my life.
So I’ve been compiling every incident in a journal with
dates and times. When I paid my rent earlier this week I thought about handing
it in to the management but something told me it wasn’t quite time yet.
Frankly, part of me was concerned that they’d knew it was me who blew them in
and you know the code of the streets, snitches get stitches. Again, I don’t
want to be a target. I’ve been having these internal arguments where I want to
report on all of it, the owners should know what’s going on in their building
and I shouldn’t have to deal this shit but at the same time, I’m waiting for
the right time to do it, you now, trying to pick my spot.
Yesterday I visited a friend of mine and when she asked me
about the building situation I told her I’m trying to stay out of it and be
patient because these people are too volatile, the situation is too crazy to
last long term. You’ve got essentially a very stupid girl renting the apartment
who doesn’t have a job and whose child doesn’t live with her. Then you have
another female staying there, and their 2 boyfriends who appear to know each
other. The psycho guy comes and goes. I heard him talking in the hallway on the
phone to one of his “bitches” so I think he has other girls to party with and
other places to stay but the other guy, who dates apartment girl’s friend, well
he’s been living here, pretty much since the disturbances started 3 weeks ago.
He’s the asshole who smokes in the hallway and is the reason I sealed my doors
so that the smoke couldn’t get in my place.
Last night, that guy might have taken himself out of the
equation. Around 10:30 last night, the girl who’s been staying in apartment 9 the last
few weeks ran out into the hallway. She was basically right outside my door and
she screamed; “That’s it! You put your hands on me and now I’m calling the
cops!” the guy followed out into the hallway and this started basically a
literally half hour screaming match up and down the stairs and out in front of
the building where the guy was basically telling her to “suck his dick”,
calling her a “crazy bitch” and making sure she understood that “I’m not fucking
with you anymore anyway”. She kept screaming about how she was going to call
the police and how he was going to pay for putting his hands on her. So yes,
for half an hour they just went back and forth, up and down the steps and not
only was I not going to get involved but I had a smirk on my face. I couldn’t
wait for the police to arrive. Yes, I had some compassion for the female, but
these people have been making my life a hell for weeks, waking me up
constantly, partying every night, making it hard for me to get to sleep, making
me feel unsafe in my own place, so my satisfaction that this drama was
unfolding was a guiltless satisfaction. It’s hard for me to feel sympathy for
people who treat me with disrespect and who continue to make terrible choices.
I’d help anyone in a normal situation but this wasn’t a normal situation. These
people need help beyond the means of which I can provide… and they were about
to get it.
When 2 vehicles pulled up to the house I was surprised. It
wasn’t the police but the parents/relatives of the girl who was assaulted. By
this time, the argument had moved back inside of apartment 9. Two people, who didn’t
actually “live” in apartment
9 were trying to tell the other to move out and leave. I
thought, well this is going to get interesting. Within a minute I heard a man
screaming that he was going to knock the attacker out, but the abuser was
defiant. He wouldn’t let go of the girl’s arm. From what I can tell there was
some pushing and shoving, many threats back and forth and I heard a little bit
of wrestling or contact in the hall. Then I heard the father say something
about the abuser having a gun. Oh boy. Yes, that’s when I decided it would be a
good idea to grab my phone and lay flat on the floor. I’m not trying to get
shot over some other’s people’s crazy shit. Before I could call the police,
someone in the hall did. The father decided at this point not to try to throw
the guy out but to instead get his daughter out of Dodge. They made it down to
the downstairs door and the street and were trying to leave to wait for the
police but the abuser would not release the girl’s arm. A tug of war was
underway.
Suddenly a police car came flying up, stopped in the middle
of the street and the abuser released her arm and ran up the driveway beside my
building. The police gave chase. Perhaps if he had taken out the trash at all
in the last 3 or so weeks he might have known that the driveway leads to a
little parking lot behind the restaurant next door but there’s no way out,
There were 5 foot concrete walls, with tall fences on top of them. A minute or
so later the police emerged with him, shackled him up and threw him in the car;
all the while he was screaming and freaking out, not unlike the other crazy guy
who was arrested almost 2 weeks ago. Other police cars arrived on the scene and
although there weren’t as many as there were last week (6), there were quite a
few and once again, another crazy guy was being taken to jail. I couldn’t help
but feel joy over this. I thought, wow not only did they get all their drama
finished this time before midnight; also now it’s going to be sooo quiet
tonight. Maybe I’ll even be able to enjoy the Super Bowl in peace this weekend.
I went to bed relaxed and peaceful. Perhaps this situation is working itself
out after all. But I also think it may be time to turn in my incident journal
to management on Monday.
p.s. As I was getting ready to post this, the girl who was
attacked last night showed up alone and collected all of her clothes and belongings, like 5
garbage bags full. I guess she’s moving out. This is a positive sign. Because
if she’s moving out there a lot less chance that the attacker from last night
will be moving back in when he gets out of jail.
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