Makin Friends

A week or so ago we got two really nice girls as our downstairs neighbors. The way the building is set up is the ground level porch has one door (ours) that leads to the second and third floors and then another door to the left of ours that leads directly into the first floor apartment. It’s a really lovely apartment in a generally safe area.

On Sundays Chris and I both work at 6am, he’s usually out the door by 5:40 the latest. Yesterday he texts me as he is getting in his car to tell me that our downstairs neighbor’s door is wide open, the lights are all off, but their cars are there.

“Just go shut their door!” he says. “The wind probably blew it open. I would hate for a raccoon to go in there.”

Well, unfortunately I’ve seen too many episodes of Criminal Minds and raccoons were the least of my concerns.  So instead of walking downstairs I walked to my kitchen, picked up a butcher’s knife, called the neighbors several times and then called the police.

In my defense, I was alone in my apartment (my other roommate wasn’t home) and the only other people in the building were my potentially dead first floor neighbors and my schizophrenic upstairs neighbor. While I believe the upstairs neighbor is harmless to others, I just wasn’t sure how much help he would be in this situation.

Also, the alternative to calling the police was me, the new neighbor they don’t know, walking unannounced into their apartment wielding a butcher’s knife. Best case scenario and they weren’t dead, I would then have to explain that I am in fact, not a psycho but was concerned for their well being. Worst case scenario I enter into a kitchen knife sword-fight with a burglar. Either way I saw it as a losing situation.

Anyway, shortly after I called 911, three large police officers showed up, scared the shit out of these girls (who it turns out were in fact asleep and not dead) and proceeded to make sure there were no boogie men or serial killers in their closets. Meanwhile I just stood on the porch apologizing for ruining their Sunday morning.

The girls were super sweet about the situation, but I just feel like I may have now branded myself as the eccentric upstairs neighbor with acute paranoia.

For your viewing pleasure here’s a photo of me, in Chicago, sitting on stage in a questionable state of sobriety, with a band I just met.

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