I'd heard her
upstairs more than a couple of times, but I'd lived in my
apartment for three months before I found out what she looks like. Her name is
Shelly, it turns out. I was installing that cheap
Saran Wrap window insulation and needed a
hair dryer; she answered the door with a
drunken smile and finally allowed me to borrow hers.
When I returned it a few hours later, she was still drunk, and seemed to honestly not remember me borrowing it. She smiled and introduced herself again. She was cute, but I was involved. And sober.
Three times this past year I've called 911 because I hear yelling and stomping above my bedroom. Sometimes I hear just her, and I figure she's on the phone, but the times I've called 911 there was a male voice up there as well.
Since then, whenever I've seen her in the hallway, she always looks drunk and a little confused. About a week ago I heard her yelling "Go away" through her door to some guy, and since I was on my way out anyways, I stopped in the stairwell to see what happened.
The guy took a couple of minutes to get the message and come out to the stairs himself. We had a terse conversation. He had his shirt unbuttoned like he'd been expecting something up there, but to be honest, he wasn't the least bit attractive. He explained that she had drunk a lot of rum recently, which didn't surprise me, and that he'd come over with a six-pack of beer, because he doesn't like to get drunk himself. And other stuff like that. I've noticed that guilty people will try hard to defend themselves before you've actually accused them of anything.
The kicker was that when I returned from my errand, I heard this guy talking to his roommate from behind the door of his own apartment, just down the hall from me. About how he could see the hatred in my eyes (which was probably true; I'm not fond of men who try to take advantage of drunken women), and how I was probably the guy that called the police and had him put in jail for several days (which I didn't know had happened, but I'm glad in retrospect), and at least four or five times about what a cocksucker I was. I shrugged it off and went in through my own door. I made sure the latch was secured, just in case.
So what does a guy do in these situations? Yeah, the girl is clearly alcoholic. I don't even know what she does during the day while I'm at work. She still yells and stomps a lot, but if I only hear her voice then I let it go. I won't hesitate to call the police again if I think she's being threatened or hurt.
It's just one of those lousy situations where there's really nothing you can do to make it better or worse. I'll bet the action heroes in movies never have to worry about things like that.