Four AM Adventures
Last night sucked.
I was deep in sleep, oddly enough dreaming about an old Army buddy who came to Denver for a visit. His company had arranged a place for him to stay and we were following another friend of mine to get there and drop him off.
As we meandered through a maze of old factories and run down business parks (which don't really exist in Denver) I head some screaming. It took me a minute or two to figure out the screaming was coming from the real world and not Dreamland.
"Fucking asshole!" [sobbing] "Stupid fucking cunt!"
Things like that interspersed with low mumbling like someone was being consoled and then the screaming and swearing would fire back up. Now, for anyone who's read this blog for three seconds knows I have problem with some of my neighbors. From six AM wake ups of them screaming profanities to each other, to having to stop watching TV in the evenings because they're fighting loud enough to be heard over the Dolby 7.1 surround. Or, at least, I think it's 7.1.
The time was now a little after 4AM. Far too early for screaming and yelling loud enough to pull me from my sleep.
I crawled out of bed and had to find a t-shirt and slippers because the weather in Colorado is getting close to freezing overnight. Finally, I took the charger off my phone and stepped out into the living room where I could look out from a window and see the neighbor's front porch. Or, half of it, anyway. One of them was on their porch. I had to conclude she was either merely out for a smoke or out because the fight had gotten so bad they needed to be separated from one another and she chose to be outside rather than continue the fight.
I dialed the police, non-emergency and explained to a very awake Kimmie that my neighbors were fighting loud enough to wake me from a deep sleep. A very deep sleep. I didn't tell her this, but my sleep was so deep I was barely capable of walking in a straight line and that's just not normal for me.
Before I hung up, I was told officers were on their way. Instead of waiting, I crawled back into bed. And then I heard it again. More shouting, more profanities, more mumbling and consoling. But, I thought, it didn't sound like the usual suspects. It wasn't the high-pitched wail of Bonnie or the crying of Deseret (sp?), rather the voices sounded... well, different.
So, in t-shirt and slippers I stepped out into the night to trail down the source of the noise. As it turned it, the shouting and screaming came from neighbors of the other side of where I live. They'd been loud in the middle of the night before, but not often enough for me to call the police on them, however I didn't want to be inaccurate to the police and have them show up at the wrong address. I called non-emergency back and once again spoke with Kimmie. I explained to her how I got the address wrong and gave her the real address as best I could, not being entirely awake as I was. In fact, before I could finish giving her what I knew, she said the officers were already on site and that I should find them and explain.
I walked around and found the patrol cars empty and then saw what looked like a blonde haired form walking around the building, towards the neighbors with the real noise. I told Kimmie what I'd seen and agreed with her that the police probably followed the sounds themselves.
Back in bed I listened. The neighbor's dogs barked and I had to guess the police were there, the knocking alerting the dogs. At first I heard a female voice, "Thank you officers," and had to wonder if there was a domestic violence issue going on next door. Then I heard mumbling and then screaming, "Why can't these mother fuckers leave me alone? Goddam fuckers getting in my business! Stupid fucking [name of neighborhood]!"
The officer tried to calm her down, "Michelle, calm down."
More screaming and then something slamming. More screaming and then I hear Michelle walk off, her voice getting smaller as she moved away, the police officer calling after her for her to return. As she was "walking off" I head more slamming and suddenly worried if she was kicking of hitting our vehicles parked out front. Was she taking her frustrations out on what was near and denting the paneling of one of our vehicles? Was I going to find my truck with a giant dent in it or a broken window?
I had to trust the officer wasn't going to let that happen.
From my bedroom I couldn't see anything, but I heard more mumbling and then - I don't know. The officer left? Did he escort one or both parties out of the home?
Finally, I heard some hard soled shoes, almost with a metallic clang, walk down the sidewalk and past my bedroom window. For a moment I worried whomever was in the house was out looking for someone to place the blame on. Were they looking for neighbors outside, lights on, anything to place the blame on who called the police? Or, was it an officer making his way back to his car? Was it something unrelated? Typically the only people who use the sidewalk running past my bedroom window are myself and, occasionally, my roommate. Well, you know, aside from the UPS guy, FedEX or other delivery service. Otherwise, due to the layout of the condo complex, that sidewalk is rarely used by others.
It was close to five before things died down again and closer to six before I fell back asleep. Had it been a weekday I would have just got up and gone to the gym or something, but I'd been woken from a deep sleep and longed to return to Dreamland.
I never returned to Dreamland. Sure I fell asleep, but I never really slept and finally just got up at nine. Now I'm tired and can't focus.
It's a good thing today is Sunday.
I was deep in sleep, oddly enough dreaming about an old Army buddy who came to Denver for a visit. His company had arranged a place for him to stay and we were following another friend of mine to get there and drop him off.
As we meandered through a maze of old factories and run down business parks (which don't really exist in Denver) I head some screaming. It took me a minute or two to figure out the screaming was coming from the real world and not Dreamland.
"Fucking asshole!" [sobbing] "Stupid fucking cunt!"
Things like that interspersed with low mumbling like someone was being consoled and then the screaming and swearing would fire back up. Now, for anyone who's read this blog for three seconds knows I have problem with some of my neighbors. From six AM wake ups of them screaming profanities to each other, to having to stop watching TV in the evenings because they're fighting loud enough to be heard over the Dolby 7.1 surround. Or, at least, I think it's 7.1.
The time was now a little after 4AM. Far too early for screaming and yelling loud enough to pull me from my sleep.
I crawled out of bed and had to find a t-shirt and slippers because the weather in Colorado is getting close to freezing overnight. Finally, I took the charger off my phone and stepped out into the living room where I could look out from a window and see the neighbor's front porch. Or, half of it, anyway. One of them was on their porch. I had to conclude she was either merely out for a smoke or out because the fight had gotten so bad they needed to be separated from one another and she chose to be outside rather than continue the fight.
I dialed the police, non-emergency and explained to a very awake Kimmie that my neighbors were fighting loud enough to wake me from a deep sleep. A very deep sleep. I didn't tell her this, but my sleep was so deep I was barely capable of walking in a straight line and that's just not normal for me.
Before I hung up, I was told officers were on their way. Instead of waiting, I crawled back into bed. And then I heard it again. More shouting, more profanities, more mumbling and consoling. But, I thought, it didn't sound like the usual suspects. It wasn't the high-pitched wail of Bonnie or the crying of Deseret (sp?), rather the voices sounded... well, different.
So, in t-shirt and slippers I stepped out into the night to trail down the source of the noise. As it turned it, the shouting and screaming came from neighbors of the other side of where I live. They'd been loud in the middle of the night before, but not often enough for me to call the police on them, however I didn't want to be inaccurate to the police and have them show up at the wrong address. I called non-emergency back and once again spoke with Kimmie. I explained to her how I got the address wrong and gave her the real address as best I could, not being entirely awake as I was. In fact, before I could finish giving her what I knew, she said the officers were already on site and that I should find them and explain.
I walked around and found the patrol cars empty and then saw what looked like a blonde haired form walking around the building, towards the neighbors with the real noise. I told Kimmie what I'd seen and agreed with her that the police probably followed the sounds themselves.
Back in bed I listened. The neighbor's dogs barked and I had to guess the police were there, the knocking alerting the dogs. At first I heard a female voice, "Thank you officers," and had to wonder if there was a domestic violence issue going on next door. Then I heard mumbling and then screaming, "Why can't these mother fuckers leave me alone? Goddam fuckers getting in my business! Stupid fucking [name of neighborhood]!"
The officer tried to calm her down, "Michelle, calm down."
More screaming and then something slamming. More screaming and then I hear Michelle walk off, her voice getting smaller as she moved away, the police officer calling after her for her to return. As she was "walking off" I head more slamming and suddenly worried if she was kicking of hitting our vehicles parked out front. Was she taking her frustrations out on what was near and denting the paneling of one of our vehicles? Was I going to find my truck with a giant dent in it or a broken window?
I had to trust the officer wasn't going to let that happen.
From my bedroom I couldn't see anything, but I heard more mumbling and then - I don't know. The officer left? Did he escort one or both parties out of the home?
Finally, I heard some hard soled shoes, almost with a metallic clang, walk down the sidewalk and past my bedroom window. For a moment I worried whomever was in the house was out looking for someone to place the blame on. Were they looking for neighbors outside, lights on, anything to place the blame on who called the police? Or, was it an officer making his way back to his car? Was it something unrelated? Typically the only people who use the sidewalk running past my bedroom window are myself and, occasionally, my roommate. Well, you know, aside from the UPS guy, FedEX or other delivery service. Otherwise, due to the layout of the condo complex, that sidewalk is rarely used by others.
It was close to five before things died down again and closer to six before I fell back asleep. Had it been a weekday I would have just got up and gone to the gym or something, but I'd been woken from a deep sleep and longed to return to Dreamland.
I never returned to Dreamland. Sure I fell asleep, but I never really slept and finally just got up at nine. Now I'm tired and can't focus.
It's a good thing today is Sunday.
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