(no subject)
weirdest day EVER.
i went out last night and didn't get home and to bed until like 4am. i'm woken up at 7 am with someone knocking on the door. i answer it, and it's a COP. i'm simultaneously thinking, "omg, who died?" while racking my brain trying to think if i'd done anything illegal the night before.
so the cop asks for my boyfriend, jeff. then, he accuses him of graffiting the elevator. the cop said that someone "tagged" the elevator with the name "jeff ma," and when the cop looked in the visitor parking registry, he saw there was a jeff ma staying in my suite. he ran a check on his plates and everything. the cop is all "i know you did it, you look guilty, fess up and clear your conscience," being a complete DICK while we're all "what the fucking shit?"
when he couldn't wring a confession out of my boyfriend because he DIDN'T DO IT, the cop left with threats of bringing jeff's handwriting to the handwriting experts to prove that he did do it. oh yeah, the cop also said all this shit about how the building managers have had problems with my suite and if he doesn't confess, my roommate and i could get evicted! of course, he's totally pulling this shit out of his ASS because my roommate OWNS the fucking condo and has never had anything resembling trouble with the building managers.
so we went and saw this graffiti and of course it looks NOTHING like the words "jeff ma". i took a picture of it:
.
does that look a single thing like jeff ma? no.
p.s. in case you were wondering wtf a COP is doing investigating some tiny case of graffiti in some random apartment building, like i was, turns out the dude lives in the building and enforces god-fearing lawfulness amongst all of the tenants here with a fucking iron fist. apparently everyone loves him because he keeps the building safe. and, so it seems, harasses innocent guests.
and that was not all of the weirdness in my day. my writing professor from fourth year lives in the building, and we ran into eachother in the laundry room. all the dryers were full and i'm sitting there fuming because like five of them are finished but sitting there with clothes still in them, and in comes dr. read. we make awkward small talk about writing, and i go to put my wet clothes in the dryer she just emptied. and her UNDERWEAR are still sitting in there. i was thinking "should i say something?" and i finally tell her she left some "clothes." she hastily grabs them and stuffs them into her basket. it was MORTIFYING for both of us. christ.
i went out last night and didn't get home and to bed until like 4am. i'm woken up at 7 am with someone knocking on the door. i answer it, and it's a COP. i'm simultaneously thinking, "omg, who died?" while racking my brain trying to think if i'd done anything illegal the night before.
so the cop asks for my boyfriend, jeff. then, he accuses him of graffiting the elevator. the cop said that someone "tagged" the elevator with the name "jeff ma," and when the cop looked in the visitor parking registry, he saw there was a jeff ma staying in my suite. he ran a check on his plates and everything. the cop is all "i know you did it, you look guilty, fess up and clear your conscience," being a complete DICK while we're all "what the fucking shit?"
when he couldn't wring a confession out of my boyfriend because he DIDN'T DO IT, the cop left with threats of bringing jeff's handwriting to the handwriting experts to prove that he did do it. oh yeah, the cop also said all this shit about how the building managers have had problems with my suite and if he doesn't confess, my roommate and i could get evicted! of course, he's totally pulling this shit out of his ASS because my roommate OWNS the fucking condo and has never had anything resembling trouble with the building managers.
so we went and saw this graffiti and of course it looks NOTHING like the words "jeff ma". i took a picture of it:
.
does that look a single thing like jeff ma? no.
p.s. in case you were wondering wtf a COP is doing investigating some tiny case of graffiti in some random apartment building, like i was, turns out the dude lives in the building and enforces god-fearing lawfulness amongst all of the tenants here with a fucking iron fist. apparently everyone loves him because he keeps the building safe. and, so it seems, harasses innocent guests.
and that was not all of the weirdness in my day. my writing professor from fourth year lives in the building, and we ran into eachother in the laundry room. all the dryers were full and i'm sitting there fuming because like five of them are finished but sitting there with clothes still in them, and in comes dr. read. we make awkward small talk about writing, and i go to put my wet clothes in the dryer she just emptied. and her UNDERWEAR are still sitting in there. i was thinking "should i say something?" and i finally tell her she left some "clothes." she hastily grabs them and stuffs them into her basket. it was MORTIFYING for both of us. christ.