Monday, July 31, 2006

Police line: Do Not Cross!!!

I woke up to a bodybag blocking my front door. Seriously. I opened my apartment door on my way to work and there it was surrounded by police officers and a guy with a walkie talkie talking to who knows. He quit talking on the walkie talkie, to let me know I needed to wait inside my apartment for a few minutes until I hear a knock letting me know I was getting the all clear to come out.

My mind started racing because this was the craziet thing. I mean, I didn't hear anything last night. Who is in the bodybag? Were they killed or did they die naturally? Oh my God. There is an old creepy guy who lives in the building who gets really drunk and sits on the hallway stairs strumming bad guitar and yelling out incoherent lyrics. What if he died? He doesn't have any kids and he's a widow. Who are we going to call? What do you do when this happens? What if someone was murdered? Is there a killer in the building? When did this become my problem? Holy Shit. Then I get a knock on the door...

"Miss, it's okay to leave the apartment."

I slowly open the door and try not to look at the bodybag. I try to slide by, because I don't want my body to touch anything. "Is it okay to walk out?", I ask. "Yeah, no problem" one of the officers says. Then he adds "Hey guys, she loves asparagus!", which was a reference to the bright green "I heart Michigan asparagus" shirt that I'm wearing today. A few of the detectives start to laugh. I'm thinking, "How inappropriate. Someone is dead in a bag in front of where I live and all these people think to do is is crack a joke about a lame shirt? As soon as I get to work, I'm calling somebody and reporting this." They lift the yellow crime scene tape and I duck under it terrified and mad all at the same time.

I walk out of the buliding and I'm in shock. I walk halfway up my street and ask a passerby if they have any idea what happened in my building. "Where?",they ask. "Over there", I say and I turn around to point out exactly where I'm talking about. And that's when I see everything. I see the cranes and the lighting and the craft service cart and the trailors and then it hits me...I am in the middle of a movie set!!! I'm in my apartment this morning freaking out and nobody has the damn courtesy to tell me I woke up in the middle of a movie set! I appreciate the method acting in hindsight but lord, would a little warning to the actual residents of the building been that big of a deal? Just more evidence that my landlord could care less about what happens in the building as long as he gets his money. What concerns me more, is that I live in a building that looks like it could "realistically" have the occasional unsolved murder. Scary. Perhaps signing my October lease renewal is definitely something I should think about a bit further ...


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