At 9 o'clock last night, as I read my book, Salt- A World History, (Yes, I am a boring person, but you're reading my blog so NYAH!) I heard someone knock at my door. Thinking it was Monica I hopped up to answer.
It was not Monica.
It was crazy neighbor.
She was quite agitated and when I inquired as to how she was doing she exclaimed, "I'm upset!" Pushing her way into my apartment she announced that she had been "prowled." Some items that were "very precious to her" had been stolen and she believes that somebody has the key to her apartment. Gravely she told me, a hand on my forearm, that I was also in danger.
I decided that it might be amusing (to me) to mention the guy with the knife and sword collection who lives down the hall from Monica. She was stricken briefly. "Isn't that illegal?" "Being socially awkward? Not last time I checked," I said with an unreciprocated smile.
Undeterred, she went on at great length about people getting into our homes and raping/stealing/looking at our personal items. (What personal items could this woman possibly need to hide? I'm guessing she doesn't have a neon orange 2 foot long double-headed dildo. Not that I do either...) I pointed out to her that I own absolutely nothing of value other than a crap ton of cds, which are all backed up on disc. She then pointed out my recumbent exercise bike, which while pricey, actually does weigh a metric crap ton. I would love to watch a thief carry that out. I bet a guy that strong would be dead sexy, also he already has a key to my apartment, so that hurtle is out of the way.
She claims to have seen men constantly casing "the joint" and repeatedly reminded me that I live in "the big city." Detective Scary Neighbor is watching you, would-be robbers- she lives in the "big city" (24th largest city in America, 100th largest metropolitan area in the world, 58th on the list of US cities by crime rate) and knows it. Unlike Dainty Neighbor Quiana who has only lived in Philadelphia (5th largest city in America, 45th largest metropolitan area of the world, 7th on the list of US cities by crime rate), Las Vegas (34th on the list of cities by crime rate), Honolulu, and Tokyo (10th largest city in the world, the largest greater metropolitan area of the world).
Of course, thanks to CSI et al., Law & Order et al. (though particularly SVU), British mysteries, and genetics, I am totally paranoid about being murdered in my bed (or really anywhere) and so even though I know that this woman is batshit crazy-go-nuts, I still couldn't sleep a wink. Do crazy people lose things and think that they are stolen? Do they make up thefts and believe it? Do they secretly suspect their dainty neighbors and plot against them?
As I lay there in dark, straining to hear the sounds of a meth addict with mush mouth breaking into my tiny apartment, I realized that maybe she was casing MY joint. That's right, she wanted to eyeball all my crazy bling. Perhaps she finds my pretentious emo music irritating and is out to kill me/destroy all my Citizen Cope CDs.
MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! I have to move.