Aftermath II
We had the Thyme reading Monday evening (which went very well) and Luke (Demetrius) had asked us over to his place afterward but he lived further downtown and I didn't want to get home late so I decided against it. As it was, I entered the building at 11:00--I skulkedwalked through the courtyard with my jacket hood up, falling in behind two guys who were obviously residents (they were carrying groceries and seemed like a couple). As we approached the doors I saw a guy waiting there, clearly without keys and waiting for a resident to let him in. The two guy residents unlocked the door, letting him in, and the security officers didn't stop the guy. I felt uneasy and lingered in the lobby to fake a phone call. After a couple of minutes, I started to walk toward the C elevator bank--and I saw the same guy lingering by the doors, looking around, waiting for someone with keys. And honestly, I can't swear it wasn't the same guy--it looked like him but I didn't look right at him because I didn't want him to look at me. I was absolutely furious though. FURIOUS. It was the lingering that pissed me off, I can't even really describe why. It just seemed so entitled or something--and why the hell didn't security see this? As I walked past the guy looked over at me, obviously thinking I would let him in, but I pretended to get my mail killed more time in the lobby, hoping he would be gone by the time I went back to the bank. This is what happened, and I got into the elevator alone. I rode up to my apartment, furious and very nervous. Believe it or not, I hadn't really been afraid until then--but if the guy can get in again...?
My dad showed up the next morning and we talked about the whole thing, looking over the lease for legal grounds to be let out of the lease early. I didn't see a specific security clause in the lease so I called Rachel, who said the landlord's obligation to provide security doesn't need to be spelled out in the contract/lease, that it's implicit in the relationship between landlord and tenant. She was all "if you sue him, it's a tort, not a contract dispute." I was relaying this to my dad, who said "tell her we'd like to hire her" and I passed this on to Rachel who said she actually hasn't been formally admitted to the bar yet, but she would be happy to give me any legal advice she could, and would give us referrals if we needed. We could've been Rachel's first clients! I thought about what I was going to say to the manager and then went downstairs with my dad to the manager's office, where we waited for at least a half-hour. Dude. Just...dude. Eventually we were ushered in to see the guy, where I told him about the incident the night before and said "I don't want to live like that, playing games in the lobby and pretending to go get my mail, just to feel safe. I'd like to be released from the lease." My dad said afterward that I did perfectly. Afterward we went down to Union Square to meet my brother and ate at the Shake Shack...mmmm, delicious Shack Shack burgers. (By the way, they have this HILARIOUS William Wegman art exhibit there on screens in the park, showing these park denizens (diners at the Shack, people sitting on benches, a Parks employee driving a truck) with human bodies, clothes and hands and Weimaraner faces. It's difficult to go into why it's so funny but it's brilliant. Check it out if you get a chance.)
Elizabeth emailed me from London, very graciously offering me her ginormous living room to live in for awhile. After the Monday incident I emailed back saying yes--I'm moving my bed and kittehs (and basic things like clothes, makeup) on Saturday, and moving most of the rest of it into storage until I find another place.
Tuesday I rode up in the elevator with the mother of a girl who lives down the hall--I've spoken with her (the girl) many times, and had her and her little brother and sister over for Halloween last year. I spoke with the mother privately in the hall, telling her what had happened and saying "just watch out for your kids." As we spoke another woman from across the hall came by and entered the conversation--apparently the detectives had been knocking on doors and interviewing the residents. The other said that she'd lived in the building for a long time and things like that "never happen here." But she also said there used to be a lot more security than there was now. The detective investigating the case had left a message so I called him back and we had a nice long chat. One of the first things he said was "that guy across the hall isn't too helpful, is he?" I said "uh--YEAH. Yeah. No, he isn't." He said the girls next door and down the hall had very nice things to say about me, all "she's so nice!" and "ooh, she's an ACTRESS!" I said "well, I like kids and have invited them in several times to play with my cats." He said the building is still in transition and the management is trying to drive out the criminal element, and he mentioned gang activity and drug-dealing. I suppose I'm such an innocent, I genuinely had no idea that was still happening in that neighborhood. He seemed a little surprised that I was actually moving--I said I was moving for several reasons, 1) the guy knows where I live and what I look like, 2) the recurrent security lapses, and 3) that fucking neighbor. If you can't even count on your neighbor to call the damn cops...well, that's not a place I want to live.
I went over to the precinct HQ last night to look at mugshots--man, there are a LOT of criminals in this city. It got depressing after awhile. Detective Perez's partner came over to meet me and said "man, that girl next door to you was singing your praises--she thinks very highly of you." I guess I'll see if I can say goodbye to her before I leave. The two detectives were saying how extremely fortunate I was--which I know, in a way, but I haven't been letting myself think about it too much, because I don't want to freeze up and feel too afraid. But they were saying the guy could've punched me in the face or knocked me out, or pulled a gun on me. Detective Perez also said "my superior and me, we think it was an attempted rape" which seems, well, obvious. They're going to try to get a good picture of this guy from the footage on the tape.
One of the people I work with has been really annoying about this, though--when I told them on Monday, she was saying things like "you should've kicked him in the balls" and "why didn't you kick him in the balls?" No, I should've done exactly what I did do--stay un-raped and un-murdered. She's a terrific person most of the time but I don't need to hear what she thinks I did wrong. On the other hand, one of the guys I work for was bragging about me yesterday to one of the other partners--he was talking about our annual summer outing and how usually we play softball but this year we played volleyball. He said "you should see Clara, she's very fierce when she's at bat." I said "well, I am extremely competitive in sports--I lettered in three sports in high school." Then he said "And last week she fought off a mugger in her apartment who pulled a knife on her..." The guy looked startled and said "Really?" I shrugged and gave him a brief rendition of what had happened.
Whew. The world is too much with us.
My dad showed up the next morning and we talked about the whole thing, looking over the lease for legal grounds to be let out of the lease early. I didn't see a specific security clause in the lease so I called Rachel, who said the landlord's obligation to provide security doesn't need to be spelled out in the contract/lease, that it's implicit in the relationship between landlord and tenant. She was all "if you sue him, it's a tort, not a contract dispute." I was relaying this to my dad, who said "tell her we'd like to hire her" and I passed this on to Rachel who said she actually hasn't been formally admitted to the bar yet, but she would be happy to give me any legal advice she could, and would give us referrals if we needed. We could've been Rachel's first clients! I thought about what I was going to say to the manager and then went downstairs with my dad to the manager's office, where we waited for at least a half-hour. Dude. Just...dude. Eventually we were ushered in to see the guy, where I told him about the incident the night before and said "I don't want to live like that, playing games in the lobby and pretending to go get my mail, just to feel safe. I'd like to be released from the lease." My dad said afterward that I did perfectly. Afterward we went down to Union Square to meet my brother and ate at the Shake Shack...mmmm, delicious Shack Shack burgers. (By the way, they have this HILARIOUS William Wegman art exhibit there on screens in the park, showing these park denizens (diners at the Shack, people sitting on benches, a Parks employee driving a truck) with human bodies, clothes and hands and Weimaraner faces. It's difficult to go into why it's so funny but it's brilliant. Check it out if you get a chance.)
Elizabeth emailed me from London, very graciously offering me her ginormous living room to live in for awhile. After the Monday incident I emailed back saying yes--I'm moving my bed and kittehs (and basic things like clothes, makeup) on Saturday, and moving most of the rest of it into storage until I find another place.
Tuesday I rode up in the elevator with the mother of a girl who lives down the hall--I've spoken with her (the girl) many times, and had her and her little brother and sister over for Halloween last year. I spoke with the mother privately in the hall, telling her what had happened and saying "just watch out for your kids." As we spoke another woman from across the hall came by and entered the conversation--apparently the detectives had been knocking on doors and interviewing the residents. The other said that she'd lived in the building for a long time and things like that "never happen here." But she also said there used to be a lot more security than there was now. The detective investigating the case had left a message so I called him back and we had a nice long chat. One of the first things he said was "that guy across the hall isn't too helpful, is he?" I said "uh--YEAH. Yeah. No, he isn't." He said the girls next door and down the hall had very nice things to say about me, all "she's so nice!" and "ooh, she's an ACTRESS!" I said "well, I like kids and have invited them in several times to play with my cats." He said the building is still in transition and the management is trying to drive out the criminal element, and he mentioned gang activity and drug-dealing. I suppose I'm such an innocent, I genuinely had no idea that was still happening in that neighborhood. He seemed a little surprised that I was actually moving--I said I was moving for several reasons, 1) the guy knows where I live and what I look like, 2) the recurrent security lapses, and 3) that fucking neighbor. If you can't even count on your neighbor to call the damn cops...well, that's not a place I want to live.
I went over to the precinct HQ last night to look at mugshots--man, there are a LOT of criminals in this city. It got depressing after awhile. Detective Perez's partner came over to meet me and said "man, that girl next door to you was singing your praises--she thinks very highly of you." I guess I'll see if I can say goodbye to her before I leave. The two detectives were saying how extremely fortunate I was--which I know, in a way, but I haven't been letting myself think about it too much, because I don't want to freeze up and feel too afraid. But they were saying the guy could've punched me in the face or knocked me out, or pulled a gun on me. Detective Perez also said "my superior and me, we think it was an attempted rape" which seems, well, obvious. They're going to try to get a good picture of this guy from the footage on the tape.
One of the people I work with has been really annoying about this, though--when I told them on Monday, she was saying things like "you should've kicked him in the balls" and "why didn't you kick him in the balls?" No, I should've done exactly what I did do--stay un-raped and un-murdered. She's a terrific person most of the time but I don't need to hear what she thinks I did wrong. On the other hand, one of the guys I work for was bragging about me yesterday to one of the other partners--he was talking about our annual summer outing and how usually we play softball but this year we played volleyball. He said "you should see Clara, she's very fierce when she's at bat." I said "well, I am extremely competitive in sports--I lettered in three sports in high school." Then he said "And last week she fought off a mugger in her apartment who pulled a knife on her..." The guy looked startled and said "Really?" I shrugged and gave him a brief rendition of what had happened.
Whew. The world is too much with us.