We had a shooting in my apartment complex the other day that ended up as a homicide investigation that kept us out of our building for almost six hours. So naturally we’re all a little over-cautious and on edge. Which is why the dumbass who thought my apartment was his girlfriend’s and tried to get in at 2 this morning really wasn’t appreciated.
I was drifting off when I heard what sounded like a key going into a lock. I thought it must have been next door, because, well, anyone with a key to my place was already in it. Then there was a knock at my door. Well I sure as hell wasn’t answering it. I figured it either had to be the politest burglar ever, a vampire who required me to invite him in to enter, or some drunk guy who missed the apartment he was looking for by a few doors. So I just stayed in bed thinking he’d eventually go away.
And it did get quiet for a bit. Until Einstein here tried the key that clearly had worked before again. And again. I got up and crept to the door and looked out the peephole, and I could see some guy in a white shirt looking rather confused. Now I could have said, “Hey, wrong apartment.” But my thinking was what if this guy was convinced this was his girlfriend’s place, and some strange dude tells him to go away? Probably best not to escalate, to just let this guy get frustrated — or get a clue — and go away.
It got quite again, so I took another look out the peephole. And now he was sitting down on the walkway outside my apartment, I guess hoping if he just sat there and wished really hard, his girlfriend would come out and prove him not an idiot. Well, no harm in some dude just sitting, so I went back to bed.
Then he started tapping on the window, and that was enough. I could have called 911, but I really thought this was just some stubbornly drunk guy who needed a gentle talking to, not to get carted off in handcuffs. So I called our complex’s emergency and told them what was going on. And soon enough, I could hear a security officer outside talking to the guy. Who insisted he was in the right place. Even when presented with physical evidence — the number over my door — that he wasn’t. Again, I could have opened the door and been all, “Dude, really, wrong apartment,” but I didn’t feel like giving this guy the opportunity to come in. Besides, it wouldn’t have helped for him to have seen me laughing.
The officer finally got the girlfriend on the phone, and even she couldn’t convince this guy he’d gone astray. “I’m standing right outside!” he kept insisting, seemingly undeterred by the fact that she had not emerged to prove him right. Finally I heard footsteps and the voices dwindling in volume, so I assume either the officer or the girlfriend managed to get through to the guy and he found his way to her place to sleep it off. Or have a huge argument, more likely.
Now I’d be lying if I said the initial key sounds and knocking didn’t freak me out a little, but I’m pleased I managed to stay calm and not fly into some kind of panic over it. And that I was actually in the right apartment all along. If I’d been in the girlfriend’s place, I’d be writing a very different post right now.