my neighbor’s girlfriend’s disappearance

Remember my post a few days ago about my next-door neighbor, the one who just moved out? “Dumb as a box of rocks, annoying, deeply uninteresting at every level. (Mystery Of Life #3,267: He’s unattractive, stupid, unemployed, completely without charm — but has the hottest damned girlfriend in the building.)”
I just realized I forgot to post that I was awakened Sunday morning at 4:30 by a bang on the door. Three Dallas policemen told me they were investigating the disappearance of the aforementioned girlfriend. (Who, by the way, is apparently 19. He’s in his early 30s.) I told them about all the times I heard him screaming at her. I told them I had no idea if he was ever violent. After about 10 minutes of questions, they thanked me and went on their way. On my way back to bed, I cursed myself for not remembering his name, preventing me from checking up on him.

7 thoughts on “my neighbor’s girlfriend’s disappearance”

  1. I hate it when the cops bang on your door at any time, for any reason. (did I put everything out of sight?, do I have any warrants?, why are they here at 4:30 am?)You never get back to sleep after that.

  2. A few months after I moved into my first-ever apartment, cops woke me up about 4 a.m. or so one morning. A woman was killed (strangled, i think) next door. You could actually see the body bag from my apt., and so I called one of our photographers, and he shot photos right from my balcony. (Homicides were pretty uncommon in Binghamton, so it was a big deal.) TV people couldn’t get anywhere near the scene, so that was cool.

  3. Umm. I just realized that was a really insensitive thing to write. Access = cool. Strangulation = bad. I’ve been doing this too long.

  4. Strange. I just moved two weeks ago and a cop banged on my door louder than Judgment Day at 2 a.m. the other night. When I looked through the peep hole, no one was there. I went back to bed, only for him to bang like crazy again. I peeped again, and same thing — nobody. The third time he finally bellered “Police! Open up!” He asked why I hadn’t come to the door the first two times, andI not-so-nicely explained that I don’t open the door for people whose knocks wake the dead, only to then dash out of sight of my peep hole. He gave me a look like “Why not?” Anyway, the woman who lived at my place before me had been a really bad girl, but he wouldn’t tell me how or why. I didn’t even get any dirt for my troubles.

Comments are closed.