So at 4:30 this morning I was awakened by the sound of someone banging on the front door of an upstairs apartment in the building across the way from me. She was crying and screaming what sounded like "Jim" over and over. Readying myself with my best "Girl, he ain't worth it" speech, I went outside to see if there was someone I could call for her. The young woman (Late teens? Early 20's?) wore only a coat and a tank top. She appeared to be putting on her underwear. I asked her if there was someone I could call. She insisted she was fine and didn't need help. I told her that clearly wasn't true if she was outside screaming at 4:30am. She refused my help again so I went inside.
Five minutes later, she resumed screaming. Turns out she was actually screaming, "Mom" (which was way worse. I had, in fact, initially thought she was one of the neighbor children who had been locked out). She'd already been banging on the door for half an hour and thus far only the neighbors in other buildings (mine, mostly, since it faced hers) had gone to check on her (or maybe just to watch). I grabbed a pair of sweatpants for her and went back outside. The neighbor directly across the hall from her had finally come out to see what was going on. Again, I asked her if she was OK and how I could help. I told her, "Please stop being embarrassed. Let me help you. I have some pants for you if you need them." She refused, cowering up against the door. I started back to my apartment. One upstairs neighbor told me she had called 911. The other was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk between the two buildings. We waited outside for the cops to come.
The police arrived within ten minutes. The conversation between the girl and the officers was convoluted. She seemed disoriented and altered. They wrapped a blanket around her and walked her to their vehicle. My neighbor and I had been watching to make sure she was OK (well, I had been...he might have just been waiting to see what the officers would do). Upon seeing us, she said, "I hope you enjoyed yourselves." Before I could respond, my neighbor, who has a temper, said, "Oh f*ck you." Unfortunately, I can't say as I blame him.
I wish I could say this was the first time I'd been awakened by my crazy neighbors, but, sadly, no. My complex is rather large and allegedly one of the least expensive in Reno (tell that to my checking account). Apparently, it is also rife with domestic disputes waiting to happen. In the year and a half-ish amount of time I have lived here I have heard several screaming matches (because they were all outside) and even witnessed a car chase motivated by jealousy and baby mama drama. One of the other upstairs apartment units once had a broken window (from something being thrown out of it) and one could also see through said window what looked like smashed-in drywall in that unit's interior. I have also seen a few sobbing women fleeing their apartments, carrying their paltry belongings in garbage bags. Couple all this with rumours of drug dealers, meth labs, racists, car thieves and a women who allegedly throws out your laundry if you leave it in the washing machine too long, this apartment complex is the stuff of legends. Maybe I should write a sitcom about it.
And yet, as is common for most people living at the poverty level (because, yes, I am), I cannot afford to leave right now. Also, it's not as if I even live in the worst part of the city. For the most part, I live in a relatively safe neighborhood--it's just that some of my neighbors in the immediate vicinity are effing nuts. I guess I have to just keep to myself and hope I can get out of here as soon as my lease is up. Guess I'd best start purging again. Sigh.
Until next time, Lovelies....
