Crazy Things Happen

After some consideration, I share this because it fits so well under our Mission Statement. (And it's an awesome story.) There are no pictures, but read on dear friend...read on...

There was loud knocking at our apartment door, early Saturday morning (May 15th). My husband answered just after the third round of banging ceased. A cop was standing outside and began inquiring as to where my hubby had been that morning.

Sleeping. Derrr.

I jumped out of bed and quickly dressed, both nervous and eager to find out what we "had done". The cop had come in and was looking at the floor, to see if the carpet had been ripped up. "Looking for wires," he said.

Wires?

"The lady downstairs thinks you are watching her with a camera," the police officer said, "strung through your floor and placed in her vents." She also thought she had seen my husband outside her apartment looking in at her through the blinds, and then saw him run upstairs. And she accused us of walking to our bathroom whenever she walked into hers—that we followed her around.

Blink. Blink. Must wake up.

"Look, I'll be straight with you," the blonde officer said taking a breath, "she's crazy."

Is this real life?

We went downstairs with the officer to talk with our neighbor. We hoped she would see my husband and realize he wasn't THE man—and hello, he's married. But she told Adam she saw him watching her. And we also must have been in her apartment because her door mat was crumpled.

Your door mat is crumpled and this is your conclusion?!

Adam's face was pure confusion, I could see he was grasping for the right thing to say. Later, he told me it felt horrible to be accused like that. Her word against his. Thank goodness the cops were on our side.

Later, after leaving to the policemen who were busy putting the woman at ease, we readied ourselves for the day. Upon leaving the apartment we found a note written on pink paper under our mat. The edited version read:

"I want you! Come downstairs right now! I want you so bad." A smiley face had been drawn at the end of the last sentence. A SMILEY face! I was incredulous.

THAT'S IT!

Crazy had crossed the line! We were beyond weirded out.

We called the police who arrived at our door again, and put the note on record. (The last thing we needed was to have Crazy accuse my sweetie of something worse than spying sometime in the future.) The officer told us nothing could be done—the note was not threatening harm. But he'd noticed Crazy's door was ajar, which meant he'd have to check it out.

The officer and his partner entered Crazy's apartment and there she was—waiting—for my hubby...NAKED.

(Insert jaw drop here.)

In the end, they took her. She admitted to writing the note and standing outside our door and "listening." So, off she went. The police think she may have mixed some of her medication due to a bad break up. We feel bad for her. She was obviously terrified, and in her own head, thought all this was real. We hope she is getting help. But despite the momentary lapse in normalcy, she's not allowed back. Crazy is gone for good—or so we've been told....
Crazy things happen. And now we have a whopper to put down in history.