About mid January I got sick and I stayed home from work for a week. The entire week I heard our upstairs neighbor yelling and screaming at someone accompanied by pounding around and people throwing things on occasion. This was not normal. Other than some loud country music on Sundays that annoyed the crap out of us, she was usually pretty quiet. As a reference point just remember that this is the same neighbor who's toilet leaked on me through our ceiling... yup she is that classy. Oh and we have DEFINITLY heard her uhhh... you know doing the dirty, uuuggghhh GROSS. Needless to say all the yelling and screaming, though not usually understandable (minus the obvious explicatives), was getting me uncomfortable and my opinion of her was already low. All I wanted to do that week was sleep and relax, but instead I got Jerry Springer live above me. Just about every night when David came home I would complain, and just about every night David would tell me I should call the cops.
To be fair I wasn't totally just worried about me trying to sleep. The fights seemed like they could turn violent and there was much banging around upstairs so they might have already been. All I'm saying is I didn't want her to be killed and have it leak through my ceiling before something was done. I'm kidding but only about the being killed part.
On Wednesday evening I looked up the number. I had had all I could take; I was determined that if said neighbor and her boyfriend (ex husband, gigolo, whatever, I didn't and don't care), had more trouble the next day, I would call... for real this time... I meant it! Sure enough Thursday afternoon rolled around and another yelling outbreak occurred. What is strange is that by the sound of her voice I know she isn't necessarily screaming because her voice never breaks, but I can hear it SO well that I wouldn't call it yelling either, its like screlling? Back to my point- I pick up the phone and dialed the number. It wasn't the right one. I begin scrambling to find the correct one and by the time I do there is no more screlling, of course there wasn't.
I was determined to call the cops now, the VERY instant I heard something going on. All weekend was silent. It was like everything had gone back to the way it had been. When Monday came I was back to not being sure if I would call the cops if I heard the screlling again. Then it happened again only this time there were plenty of things being thrown around and David was there to fully witness/hear it with me. I have lived in a basement bedroom for most of my childhood so I know what certain things sound like and I can decipher what is going on better than some people. I called the cops. Within the hour they were at our building! Wow talk about speedy service, I was pleasantly surprised. When they knocked on her door no one answered or moved. The cops knocked several times for about a minute with no answer and then left. Immediately afterwards we heard our upstairs friend moving around.
The next week I went back to work and we no longer heard her screlling for long periods of time, mainly because I think she saves it for during the day when we are gone, which I am grateful for even if it doesn't change my opinion of her. And that my friends is my story of calling the cops.
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