Dear city: I chose you over the suburbs, and this is what I get?
July 25, 2005Gack.
First of all: I’m all right. I’m all right! No one panic!
That said, here’s what just happened. Oh, my! The adrenaline! The freaking out! But I’m all right. Stop panicking. You must.
I was returning from Manhattan, back from my Day of Freedom—I was having lunch with my friend while my son made Play-Doh pies with my mother-in-law or whatever it is they do when I’m not around. (And she loves it! Everyone wins in this deal.)
Sitting on the stoop of the building next door was a gaunt, toothless man commenting on every woman walking by. I thought, Ah, I’m home, where the crazy people believe in the possibility of love. He muttered at me and sucked at his teeth. Well, his tooth. And I disregarded him, as I do all the crazies, and walked to my door, and opened it.
I turned to close the door. And there he was. He pushed the door in, knocking me back a little. We were about an inch apart in the tiny vestibule between the outside door and the inside door. He was staring at me.
And then, dear readers, I went apeshit.
Well, as much as I am able to, which is in reality not very much. Just as he began to inform me that he “just had a question,” (Oh! A question, dear sir? Well, come right on in!) I shouted “Get out get out get OUT!” and I shoved at his scrawny little chest with all my might and he stumbled out the door. And then took off.
Once my violently trembling hands managed to get my keys to open the door, I called 911, gave them a startlingly vivid description of the guy, and a few minutes later the police came to my door with—the guy! And oh, how we had a reunion. The police said, “Is this the guy?” and I said, “Indeed,” and the guy looked all sullen, like now he was going to get detention on account of me, and then I gave the police all the details of the (brief) event, and then I watched them from inside as they stood on the sidewalk and berated him. The guy was waving his arms all around, and I was trying to figure out how he was defending himself. “I was lonely, see? And I knew she wasn’t going to invite me in. Even after I sucked at my tooth for her! What choice did I have?”
Alarmingly, they then proceeded to let him go. Thanks, NYPD! I called the precinct, and the guy who answered the phone said, “Well, I’m sure they didn’t just let him go.” Who are you going to believe, little lady? Me or your lying eyes?
Meanwhile, I’m okay! I’m fine! Except I will never leave my house again. So I’ll be posting more frequently, albeit with less interesting content.
Reader Comments (42)
Maybe since he knows your apeshit-ability and propensity for getting the cops involved, he'll back off. And if he shows again you can snap a photo of him just to warn him that he's suspect number one...if anything strange happens in the hood.
What he did was assault and trespass and yes, they could have arrested him.
I can hear the cops now, "You better not do that again, old man, or you're goin' downtown." Uff.
I live way out in the country. In Texas. Way out in the country in Texas, if someone tries to get into the house... we shoot 'em... then we call the cops. And everyone knows this, even the criminals, so they don't try to get in the house.
hopefully a nice frosty alcoholic beverage will make you forget tooth sucking man.
xo
Glad you're okay!
I'm going to put in a word for the cops. Maybe they know this guy and know that scaring the crap out of him is enough to put him back on the straight and narrow. Bringing him chews up time -- and while he was way out of line, a decent attorney would not be without lines of defense. If he plea bargains he is back on the street and the cops are back to square one.
But I can't imagine why the beat cops didn't explain what they are doing.
Have you seen this guy since then?
Perhaps he was going to ask if you could reccommend a good dentist? For his one remaining tooth?
YIKES. I feel your pain, one day, years ago now, we lived in a walk-up in Toronto. Right off Yonge st. but close enough to the University to make it decent, know what I mean, anyways, it was an awesome apartment, studio etc. I had only two little'uns at the time but one day I went to take them downstairs and there was a 'man' (I use this term loosely) slumped over in the vestibule. He had a needle sticking out of his exposed arm and he was asleep. Right when my oldest passed him, he came to life again and started to grab my daughter, I literally shit myself and kicked him RIGHT-IN-THE-FACE with my boots. My daughter had the wind knocked out of her (by me, whipping her out of this psycho's grasp) and people on the street were running up to the guy with the bleeding face screaming and dragging him out on the street. It was a horrible scene, one that replays often in my mind, especially when I am anxious about my kids.
Don't lock yourself in, its easy to do however, but don't. Be brave.
We had a big black dog while living in the slope, (Shepherd mix) and I am telling you- questionable people will just run across the street when they see a big dog coming. The reality was that he was a big teddy bear who let children nap on him and couldn't even catch a squirrel, but they never knew.
So sorry to hear about your close encounter, but glad you handled it well and did not get hurt.
Blech.