Posts tagged witness

About-face after a punch in the face

I understand I used to be young and dumb once. I used to party it up and yell and sometimes fight or cheer for fights.

Now that I am no longer young and dumb, it’s very annoying to witness.

A number of weeks ago, I couldn’t sleep on a Thursday night. As usual, there were people coming and going loudly. Because the temperatures were just right for sleeping with the windows open, I stubbornly refused to close mine.

At about 1:00 a.m., I heard some constant fighting between a male and female. Started out pretty benign, but got more and more heated. It got bad enough that I got up and looked out my living room window, to see if they were indoors or outdoors, and whether or not things looked bad enough to call the cops. It was about that point when the male yelled, “Back off! Back off! I don’t want to hit you!” And the female just kept screaming back. Well, that’s when they went indoors and I didn’t hear anything anymore. I chose not to call the cops, though I have in the past.

Then, about 2:10 a.m., I heard a huge group of people fighting. Guys yelling, and girls screaming. I called the cops. Of course, the cops want to know where the group is, but I can’t see where they are. Honestly, it sounded like they’re in all directions because of the way the sound was echoing. And with the trees growing bigger and more lush, I can’t see around the apartment complex as well.

So, the cops are on their way. Sure enough, once I’m off the phone, things start settling down. Then, I hear them joking. Sounds like at least one guy had punched another guy in the face in the heat of the moment, but now they’re making up! Unbelieveable! Girls are giggling nervously.

I watch the front of the building next door. I see shadows moving, so I realize that’s where this ridiculousness is taking place. I see three guys, all dressed in jeans and black T-shirts, break away from the group and start walking down the sidewalk. At that moment, I see a cop car coming up the street. It turns off its headlights.

The trio see this, and move off the sidewalk and out of sight. I see another cop behind the first one. The group is suddenly completely silent. The cops pull up in front of the correct building, get out and walk around.

My phone rings. “There are officers at the scene, and they’re wondering where they should be looking.” I tell the dispatcher that they’re parked in front of the correct building, but everyone is quiet now. I mention the guys that went walking down the sidewalk.

Duped, again.

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Snow: The clean-up

The parking lot snow removal crew finally came around before 10:00 p.m. last night. As you can see, they left quite a bit of snow behind for us to shovel. Luckily, I bought a 2006 Subaru Outback last year. If I really needed to get somewhere I could’ve, even before they so valiantly cleaned the lot.

My garage is the one to the left of the one with the open door. That man is not shoveling my snow, by the way.

Last winter was a truly horrible winter. Makes this one look like child’s play so far. I quickly become very angry with the way our apartment managers handled snow removal.

The snow plows would gather all the snow into one spot in the lot, and then move it away. Sounds like a good plan. Thing is, that one spot would be right in front of my garage and the garages on either side of me. Still, seems like the snow’s gotta go someplace right? However, we were the only three people who actually used our garages day in and day out!

One day, I yelled at one of the snow plow operators. I said, “Why do you always put the snow in front of my garage?!?”

He said, “How are we supposed to know which garages people use?”

I pointed to all the garages. It was apparant which garages are used by the fact that only our three had snow shoveled away on front of them. The rest had a winter’s worth of accumulated snow packed in front of their doors.

I think if there weren’t witnesses, he might have hurt me.

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Right in front of my eyes

Last night was quite comical in addition to being quite frustrating.

My next door neighbors were cranking the tunes all weekend. Last night, they made friends with some chicks in the building next to us who were also cranking the tunes. These girls looked like modern day Joan Jetts.

The guys were flirting with the cute girls across balconies. The girls who were with the idiot guys were making friends. (One exchange: “Oh my God! My name is Katelyn too! Out of curiosity, how do you spell your name?” “K-A-T-E-L-I-N.” “Oh, I’m L-Y-N.”)

I was ready to let it slide. But then I heard them making plans.

Cute chicks in the next building: “Hey, come on over!”

Idiot guys in my building: “Okay, we’ll be right over!”

So I called the cops and told them there was a party going on in the next building, second floor, facing the street, in the balcony below the orange lights. (Halloween lights, not Christmas.)

And I watched. A cop car came down the street and went behind the building. No one was the wiser. The cute girls apartment cranked the tunes with abandon. I heard some guys leave my apartment. They brazenly walked down the sidewalk, carrying cases of beer and holding beer cans, lifting them up for a swig every now and then. I thought for sure the cops would see this.

Just then, the phone rang. It was 12:24 a.m. It was dispatch, wondering if I could buzz the cops in. I told them I wasn’t in that building. “But,” I said emphatically, “there are two guys walking down the sidewalk RIGHT NOW carrying beer!” I thought we had them.

But no. A minute after they were in the building, another cop drove up the street, stopping about a block away. He came walking up. All the while, the tunes continue cranking.

A couple more guys came into my building, and went into the next door neighbors’ apartment.

Suddenly, I heard the music stop. I looked out my window. The kids were abandoning that apartment like rats off a sinking ship. They were loudly whispering, “Cops! Cops!”

A couple guys jumped down first, while others handed the beer to them. I saw about 12 people leave, each one of them carrying a case of beer! Each one!

The guys on the balcony next to me were laughing and taunting. One of the girls who was carrying a case of beer made it to the sidewalk before her case broke and beer cans rolled in all directions. She laughed and they laughed as she picked them up. The entire dozen kids, each carrying alcohol, made it to the apartment complex two blocks away. The cops never even noticed.

I heard the guys on the balcony next to me say they made it to the busted apartment just as the cops did, and turned away to avoid arrest.

Well, just five minutes later, five more people come out of that apartment onto the balcony, laughing about how the cops were now gone. They even had beers in their hands at that very moment. They tossed beer cans to the guys in my building. (“You gotta alley-HOOP it! Don’t throw it! Alley-HOOP it!”)

All this as the cop who had parked down the street came driving up the street to leave. They were alley-HOOPing beer as a cop drove by.

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Think she got fired later on

In the middle of last month, I had something happen to me that was so crazy and perfect that I can’t even believe it.

First, a little background information. My apartment managers decided to finally get the the parking lot fixed. Finally! However, that meant a few of us wouldn’t be able to use our garages (that we pay $50/month for) for “at least” two weeks. Just as the work was starting, I asked my apartment managers if I could pay half the garage rent ($25) for that month, since I wouldn’t be able to use my garage for half the month. The snotty little girl said, “I can ask, but I’m pretty sure my boss will say no. But I can ask.” I left my work number with her to give me the answer. Of course, she called me at home to leave a message on my answering machine to tell me no.

The work on the parking lot took longer than two weeks, of course. It was at the end of three weeks when my apartment people put up a sign saying we could start using our garages on Saturday.
(Note the ridiculous use of exclamation points. These people are idiots.)

The sign about the parking lot

On that fateful Saturday, my car was parked in the street from the night before.

Parking in the street for three weeks was no picnic, mind you. There are a lot of cars to park in very few spots on stupidly curved streets. One night during those three weeks, I just barely wedged myself into a too-small spot. I waited on my balcony for close to an hour for someone else to leave, so I could take their more suitable spot. When I saw someone leave, I raced to my car. But someone else got there before. So I drove around the block for another 10 minutes before someone else left.

So, as I was saying, my car was parked on the street that Saturday. When I left that day to run to the local Starbucks, it was about 2:00 p.m. I came right home, and parked in my garage for the first time in weeks! It was great! Of course, my apartment people hadn’t moved the barricades into the parking lot, but someone had pushed them to the side just far enough so vehicles could get through.

I stayed home until supper time, when I went to the grocery store. I had bought the makings for knepfla soup. When I got to my car and opened the driver side door, I noticed a note.

A little freaked out, I got in, locked the doors, and read it. It said, “We saw someone hit your car at 12:45 p.m. on Sept. 12. If they don’t leave a note, please call us,” and listed their phone number. My blood was boiling! I got out to survey the damage.

The front driver side bumper.

The front driver side bumper.

So the damage wasn’t horrible, but still! This was my first newer car, a real prize to me!

I got home, and called the number. I said, “Do you live around here?”

She said, “No, we were there looking at an apartment to rent. We live in Fargo.”

I said, “Did you see who it was? Could you give me a description of the vehicle?”

She said, “It was the apartment manager! We were there, waiting for her to show up to show us the apartment. She pulled up, and swiped right past your car! When she got out, my husband said, ‘How much damage did you do there?’ She said, ‘Oh, did you see that?'”

I couldn’t believe it!! My own apartment manager hit-and-runned my car!

I called the cops. The officer met me at my garage, after driving around the barricades. He took my report and looked at the damage. He called the wonderful lady who left the note. He said the lady also told him that the apartment manager said, “Oh, that’ll buff right out.” The officer said the damage wouldn’t buff right out, since it was through the paint and down to the plastic.

While the officer was there, the crotchety apartment maintenance man came over to tell the cop he shouldn’t be parking there because the concrete wasn’t ready yet. The officer told him there was a note hanging in the apartment saying he could drive on the concrete. After circling for a minute or so, the old man finally left. Can you believe it? Lecturing an officer.

The officer was able to eventually get a hold of the apartment manager. She told him that she didn’t have time right then and there to leave a note (to which the officer was snarky with, “You were with the people you needed to be with. You had time.”) So, she was charged and her insurance is paying for my damages.

Haven’t seen her working in the office lately. Serves her right.

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