since i do not have to be at the office until 10:30 each morning, i tend to sleep until about 8:30 or so, then i sorta roll myself out of bed to wander and scratch for 15 minutes at which point i turn on the water for my shower and return to wandering and scratching. generally, at about 9, i'll actually get in the shower or at least start undressing to get in the shower. it is only around this time that i can definitively be considered "awake".
at 8:37 today, my whole morning routine was interrupted by some of chicago's finest in blue. yes, while i was still blinking and scratching, i heard the distinct buzz of our building's security system. being the first button on the panel, this is not an uncommon experience for those in apartment #1, unless we're talking before 11 am, which in this case we are, so there was certainly a smacking of the lips and a half-incomprehensible "what the fuck". i sauntered to the interior panel and kinda palmed the whole thing, hoping i hit the right button. i heard the security door open. success.
out of curiosity, i opened our front door to see who i had let into the building. i figured it was a small courtesy i could provide to my fellow residents... and there they were.
two chicago police officers. badges, guns, sticks, the whole sha-bang. they came into the foyer, gave me a look, then asked if they could come inside and ask me a few questions. it's about here that i began furiously compiling any and all memories of my most recent drunken escapades. "could they really be here because i peed in an alley?" though i was suddenly relieved at how boring i could be, i still wasn't sure why they were here, so i placidly replied, "sure", doing my best to not look wiggy.
they proceeded to make their way into our "living room", where they did that cop thing where they look around as if everything is a clue then let their eyes make their way back to you. i'd seen it a thousand times on law & order (r.i.p. jerry orbach), but the full effect can only be truly felt in person.
they began their questioning. i continued to slowly awake.
"do you live here alone?"
"no."
"who else lives here?"
"my roommate." (doh!)
"uh... yeah, but who?"
"oh, i get iii... er, her name is... molly, yeah."
"ok, does anyone else live here?"
"uh, yeah, molly," i said then giving a look that suggested it was a stupid question. (doh, again!)
"yes, i mean other than molly and yourself."
"oh, no, then."
"ok, how long has she lived here?"
"who?"
"molly," he said, his eyes shifting a little to suggest that i'm a fool. (yes, it was deserved)
"oh, she's been here... well, i think like 2 or 3 weeks. i'm not sure."
"you're not sure?"
"no, i mean... no, i'm not sure."
"you live together. you don't know when she moved in?"
"like 2 weeks ago."
"ok, how long have you lived here?"
"a little over a month?" (half-asking myself)
"are you asking me?"
"no, i was counting in my head when i said that... yeah, uh, like a month." (a month and one day, to be precise... and way to tell the cop you were counting in your head... smooooooth)
"do you know 'johnny johnson'?" (i changed the name, but it was incredibly similar)
*i laugh*
*they look at each other*
"what's so funny?"
"that's kinda a stupid name, isn't it?" (who the hell am i?!?)
"ooook, but do you know him?"
"who?"
"johnny johnson"
*i laugh again* "sorry, i just wanted you to say it again... no, i don't know him... how could i know someone named johnny johnson?" (again, who the hell am i?!?)
"are you asking me again?" he said this time kinda peeved... for obvious reasons.
*i sorta look at him in a way that was both confused and suggested that i did want him to answer my question*
"has your roommate ever dated a man named johnny johnson?"
"are you serious?" and then i laughed some more.
"yes, i am serious."
"no, she hasn't... at least, i hope not. and i'm serious, too."
"...so she hasn't dated anyone named johnny johnson?"
"uh, no."
"who are your neighbors?"
"excuse me?"
"your neighbors... the other people who live in this building... who are they?"
"heh... i don't know. there's a girl named beth and a guy named rocco next door. some other guy lives with them, too... could be a girl i guess."
"one of your neighbors could be a girl?"
"yeah."
"what do you mean?"
"i just know hesheit is named jesse."
"hesheit."
"he, she, it."
"oh... that's clever."
"...thanks."
"you've never seen this 'jesse'?"
"he could be the guy who i sometimes follow home from the train."
"whoa... what?"
"everyday, there's a guy who walks here from the train at about the same time as me... only he's a few seconds faster, you see, so i follow him... as in i'm behind him."
"nice. what's he look like?"
"tall, white guy."
"that's all you can tell us."
"i follow him... remember. that's about all i see. he carries a brown bag even when he's wearing black."
"hmm... ok. so there's no johnny johnson around here as far as you know?"
"uh, no. not as far as i know."
*they left... yes, without saying good-bye*
i can't believe i'm not in jail right now. they had to think i was hiding something, especially considering some things that i thought of only later in the day.
1. i sleep in pj pants , a t-shirt, and a hoodie, so throughout my entire encounter with them, i had bedhead and was wearing a hoodie zipped with the hood up. if we hadn't been standing in the apartment that i claimed was mine, i could have been a homeless crack fiend, aka my area's favorite street accessory.
2. my roommate had painted a shelf for her bedroom the night before; however, the smell of paint fumes had not entirely left the apartment. i'm sure it smelled like a meth lab, but then again, i have no idea what that smells like.
3. our living room, as in the room where this whole exchange took place, consists of a stack of blankets with some pillows, an ironing board, and a television on the floor. it screams crack den.
4. having just woken up, i know that my eyes were bloodshot and that my teeth were probably less-than-pearly white with matching breath. again, i was doing my best to convince them on appearance alone that i was squatting.
i fully expect to have police surveillance for the next week or so.
i.f.o.t.d. - hooray for more fears with links! i fear that if and when i get famous, i won't have a publicist smart enough to prevent me from making mistakes like this.
http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2005/04/just_my_fug.html
and in case you were as interested as i was...
http://www.cafepress.com/heathertees.20919785
posted by brett @ 7:32 PM
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