Monday, November 7, 2011

won't you please? please won't you please?

Remember yesterday? The note? The tapping?
Well, I didn't bake cookies. Nor did I leave a mean note in retaliation. Instead Stephen and I went over to explain ourselves like adults.
I suspected that our neighbor, the note writer, was an older single lady. I hate that I stereotyped my own gender like that, but I was correct. As soon as she opened the door, it was apparent that something was...off. For one, right in front of the door was a fully decorated Christmas tree and a child's bicycle. And our single, older lady neighbor was crying. She said she was upset about all the noises. We weren't sure what to do, but we powered through, explained that we are not tapping on the wall, that we've heard the noise too and don't know where it's coming from but it's probably a pipe or something. Despite the hysteria, she seemed to understand, so we offered sympathies for her distraughtedness (not a word) and left a little confused but relieved that we were no longer the culprits.

So we thought...

Police knock just as aggressively as the movies portray. We were in bed, drifting to sleep, when the officer knocked loudly twice on the door. I was in polka-dot pajamas and not fit for serious, law-related interaction, so I stayed in the bedroom while Stephen handled the situation. The officer asked about the wall tapping. After ten minutes of explaining that we are not tapping on the wall, that we've heard the noise too and that we don't know where it's coming from but it's probably a pipe or something, the officer seemed convinced that we weren't trying to harrass our wall-sharer, and left his card in case we need to call.
But who knows what will happen next?
And why do I feel like a criminal? I know I'm innocent, but an officer knocking aggressively on the door has left me feeling like my record is downtown at the station. If dear neighbor calls the police again I'll probably be hauled away, handcuffed in the back of a squad car. While sitting at the prison cafeteria table, another inmate will ask, "What are you in for?" and I'll have to say, "I was framed for wall tapping." Would they send a pregnant woman to jail? Will Ivy be raised in the state penitentiary?
Also, why does the tapping not concern me more? I mean, it's reduced our neighbor to paranoia. It is a weird noise. I guess I just assume that apartments make strange noises? Or that our wall is haunted? But the poltergeists seem to be doing little haunting beyond knocking, so they're not really that much of a bother.

8 comments:

  1. That's so crazy.

    Also, you probably shouldn't be watching any of the Paranormal Activity movies right now.

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  2. i am dying. no wonder she thought it was repulsive—she is cray cray.

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  3. you the best writer on this planet, possibly in this universe. thats a good thing because i suppose i will have to write you while you are locked up. i promise i will stay in touch ;)

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  4. Emily,I keep thinking of all the horror movies that start with a strange noise.
    Hannah, I know. She's crazy. So I probably shouldn't exploit that on the internet, but she called the police on us so I feel that it's no holds barred at this point.
    Kayti, I'm so glad I'll still have friends on the outside.

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  5. I know I don't "know" you, but I'm just riveted by this story. This has all the makings for a fantastic novel! Or something!

    I laughed out loud when she said the sound was repulsive. We have neighbors who play SUPER loud techno jams and I want to leave them a note, asking them to turn it down because it's REPULSIVE. (It kind of is after you listen to it night after night after night...)

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  6. Repulsive really is the most interesting word choice. I have to give her props for that.

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  7. Note to self: the police find it acceptable to respond to calls reporting wall tapping. No, not phone tapping. Wall tapping.

    What's next, toe tapping?

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  8. I know. I kind of couldn't believe that he responded to the call.

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