Oh for fuck sake.
So, this weekend I packed the SO off on a giraffeing trip with his dad so I could have some nice quiet time to write. It is the first time I've been home alone since the whole squatters ordeal. As I am writing, I hear a man and woman screaming at each other. Her yelling at him to take his fuck*ng things or they'll be in the fuck*ng garbage, him calling her a fuck*ng bitch, etc. I peaked out my window and saw that she was in the house across the street screaming out the window at him on the side walk. It was your basic lover's quarrel, made a little depressing because what I can only assume was the lady's little boy sat on the front stoop with a puppy, and two other neighborhood kids were just standing there frozen as the couple screamed at each other. The guy is tweaked out angry - he seems like he's either in a drug rage, or just angry to the absolute extreme. I watch to make sure he's not going to hit her, and shortly, the guy left, things got quiet again, and I went back to my writing. This was at about 8:30 PM.
So I continue working on my writing, and at about 10pm I decide to call it a night. I change in to my PJ's and go feed the cats. Just as I feed the cats, there's a pounding at my front door. A really loud pounding. It scares the hell out of me. I instantly think of my friendly neighborhood meth heads and also the extremely angry guy across the street. I'm home alone, I'm in my fairly revealing PJ's, so I'm not going to go to the door. In fact, I don't want to move because with it being dark outside and the kitchen light being on, a person outside will see my general form and know I'm a lady in my house alone. The pounding gets louder, then moves to the window. Then it moves back to the door (which is a steal door) and it becomes evident that the person out there is trying to force their way in as they slam against it with their body while jiggling the door knob. I'm terrified. Thinking I'll get a good look at them then dial 911, I turn off the house lights and switch on the porch lights, look out the window. It's the police. They see me, and stop trying to force the door in.
I open the door "Oh, thank god, I thought someone was breaking in..." - but then I see their hands are on their weapons. "Who else is in here with you?" "No one." "There's no one else in here with you?" "No." They enter. I'm shaken up because I thought a meth head might be trying to kill me and embarrassed that I'm half naked. "You sure there's no one else in here with you?" "Yes." "Why didn't you answer the door?" "I was scared. I'm home alone and I though someone was trying to break in." "Who is this in the picture?" "That's my husband. My partner." "And where is he?" "He's out in the country, he's gone giraffeing for the weekend." "Is there anyone upstairs?" "No." "Why didn't you answer the door, we were knocking pretty loud?" "Yes. I was scared. I'm alone, and I don't answer the door if I'm alone. I don't even go to the door - we've had a problem with squatters in the abandoned house next door... and there was a domestic fight across the street earlier" "And your husband. You're sure he's not upstairs?" Yes - he's not here." (one officer to the other) "You better check the address" He radios in, I hear the operator confirm the address over his radio, and give a phone number that is not my number. "That's not your number?" "No." "And your husband - does he have a cellphone?" "No. He doesn't have a cellphone." "Mind if we look around?" "Sure... If you could take off your shoes first" "Oh, don't worry, they're clean (showing me their squeaky clean shoes), and we can't take them off." "Oh. okay. If you could just while your shoes off on the mat... (they do)." "And you're sure we're not going to find anyone else in here." "No. Definitely. I'm alone." At some point I start shaking, as one officer passes me and heads upstairs. "You seem pretty shaken up." "Well yeah - I thought someone was breaking in..." I follow the officers up stairs as they fling open every closet, the shower curtain. I follow them downstairs as they do the same. "This is a pretty nice house." "Thanks." "Do you own this house?" "Yes. My partner and I do." "So has anything been going on here tonight?" "No... I've been working. I've been by myself. Jesus - you scared the hell out of me." It's actually sort of funny to watch the officer, all alert stance, flinging things open, with one had ready to draw his weapon. But only funny in the surreal way that seeing this happen in my home is. "Why didn't you answer the door?" "Well I was scared, and I'm in my pajamas, and we've had meth heads pound on the door before, looking for food or looking for money. I'm confused. What's going on?" "We got a call that someone was being beaten up here." "Oh, well there was a domestic fight across the street tonight. Maybe it was them?" "So nothing's going on here tonight?" "No. So is there an incident number I need to take down?" "Oh. No. We just got a call and we're looking into it." "How do you like the neighborhood. You say you've had squatters next door?" "Yes, but my neighbors on the other side..." Opening the front door "And which house was the dispute at?" "That one." "The white one?" "Yeah - the yellow one." "Okay. Sorry to distrub you." "That's alright. You scared the hell out of me! Not... not the looking around - just the pounding." And then they were gone.
Did I mention I love my neighborhood? Gah!
I realized, shortly after as I was weeping over the phone to my SO out in the country, I was supposed to go out to see a play (but I opted to stay in to write), and I could have just as easily been gone. I can't help but think they'd have kicked my door in, let my indoor cats out.
Also, about my last post: I was wrong - they weren't building a fence next door. They were building a deck!? WTF?
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Topic: Squatters (Read 23146 times)