If Crazy Knocks, Don’t let Her in… (Part 2)

When I left you in PART 1, I was a bit freaked out, a little curious and very baked, heading up the stairs into my apartment after some disturbing revelations about an unwelcome guest that managed to get into my apartment.

Upon entering I was greeted with the calming aroma of scented candles and light music gently playing in the background.  I swung around the corner into the TV room and saw a few of Sally’s friends on one end of the sectional couch.  On the other end was the neighbor with her back turned to be having what looked like an intense conversation with a girl who had a look on her face that was somehere on the awkwardness scale between “Talking to a friend about a yeast infection.” and “Having a conversation about and impending abortion.”  As soon as I appeared in the room the girl looked up towards me non-verbally pleading “Save me!”

The neighbor noticed the girl looking over her shoulder and turned around immediately.  She saw me and swung down from the couch onto her knees and started bowing up and down with her hands raised in the air saying “I’m so sorry, Ultraparadoxical.  I’m so sorry, Ultraparadoxical!” like a demented religious fanatic.  From this point on I will be referring to the “neighbor” as the”crazy lady”.

I am not often at a loss for words but her little worship routine rendered me speechless.  I gathered myself and said the only thing that came to my mind, “Lady, you’re freaking me out.  Stop it.  Get back on the couch.”  Then walked into the kitchen to regroup and have a little pow-wow with Sally.  30 seconds into the discussion I realized that Sally would be useless in this scenario.  She hated confrontation and she certainly was not going to tell this social inept, half-drunk madwoman to get the fuck out of the house, that priveledge would fall on to me.  I gathered my nerve, exited the kitchen and Sally pretended to clean up as I walked back into the living room.

Again, I was shocked.  I had not left the room for more than 5 minutes and the scene had totally changed.  The crazy woman was now on the couch softly sobbing into her hands as the girl she was talking to edged to the corner of the couch as if she was sitting next to a filthy hobo on the subway.  My steely resolve failed as there was no way I was going to kick a crying woman out of my house so I instead attempted to save the girl she was talking to by asking if she wanted to come out on the balcony for a smoke.  She readily agreed and sprung out the patio door onto the balcony.  I had never met this girl before and she hugged me immediately once we were outside and was just about to fill me in on the what that woman had been crying about… then guess who joined us on the balcony?  I still remember vividly her skinny frame wobbling on to the balcony using her sleeve to wipe the tears off of her cheek with a bottle of wine in one hand and wineglass literally filled to the brim in the other.  Who fills a wineglass to the absolute top?  Craziness, I tell you, craziness.

She apparently wanted a cigarette too, I obliged, thinking I could politely persuade her to leave while we had a smoke.  Upon lighting up she immediately went to work degrading the girl who I just rescued (“If you are not focused on your job, then you are probably not going to be good at it.”) and lobbing the occasional barb at me (“For obviously not spending that much money, your home isn’t too poorly decorated.”)  After absorbing her verbal abuse for a few minutes I finally snapped.

“I think it would be best if you headed back home” I said.

She looked puzzled by the request and asked me “why”?  I stuck to my guns and said it again, “I think it would be best if you headed back home”.

She asked me why, again… and again, and again.  After a few minutes of this merry-go-round conversation I began to get fed up so I added “You are making the other guests uncomfortable, and I think it would be best if you left”.

With this, the crazy lady turned to the other girl and asked her “Am I making you uncomfortable?  Would you like me to leave?”

I am confident that if given the choice of answering the question honestly or flinging herself off the 2 story balcony, she would have chosen the latter.  Instead she pulled a “Sally” and bailed on me as well, saying she needed a drink, leaving me alone with the “Crazy”.  Now I was fed up, my buzz was wearing off and I had enough of this lady’s shit.

“You need to leave, right now, I am not going to ask you again.  Please leave the house” I stated again, flatly.

She asked me why a few more times and I kept with the same message, over and over and over again.  After a few a few more moments, she finally walked back in the house, and I was relieved, she was finally leaving!

No, she was not leaving.  Inside she went to each and every person in the house telling them what a jerk I was for kicking her out of the party when she had not done anything.  She asked Sally why I was doing this and if she wanted her to leave.  Sally continued to pretend of clean up and weakly said “It’s Ultraparadoxical’s house and if he asks you to leave, you should probably leave.”  Thanks for nothing Sally.

After a few minutes of this I said, in front of the rest of the guests, “Go. Home. Now.  I DO NOT want you in my house.  Please leave.”  Thats when SHE snapped.

The whites of her eyes were huge and her face was flushed.  She finally felt that social embarassment that any normal person would have felt hours ago.  “Fuck you then, I will leave, you fucking asshole” she hissed, “Where is my fucking purse?  Who STOLE my FUCKING PURSE?”  She was frantic.  Her curly hair was flopping down her face and starting to stick to the beads of sweat that were accumulating on her forehead.

To diffuse the situation I left the TV room and walked into the kitchen.  Sally accompanied me and I told her what I had said on the balcony as I could hear the crazy woman getting more and more agitated in the other room.  The increasing amount of expletives were punctuated by the banging of furniture as she gathered her stuff and prepared to leave.  I was about to ask Sally to check on her and guide her out the door when the crazy woman appeared in the kitchen, trapping me.  Sally promptly disappeared, leaving me to face her alone.  Thanks again, Sally.

She stood there for a moment looking into my eyes and I could feel the hatred emanating from her gaze.  I was frozen.  I don’t like to admit that I was frightened, but I was.  This 120lb probable meth addict was scaring the shit out of me.  I had no idea what she was capable of but she was obviously a sociopath.   She kept eye-balling me and slowly advanced.  I was already with my back to the stove as far as I could go and as she crept closer I scooted even further back, almost putting my ass up on the electric burners.

“I will leave.  I will leave.  Thats fine, I will leave, but before I go… before I go, I am going to do one thing…” she said in a sadistically solemn tone.

I scanned the countertop looking for any knives or forks that could be used to stab me.  My mind flashed gory vignettes of this woman leaping on me, tearing my eyes out like a rabid spider money as she edged me back into the corner of the kitchen.

“… I am going to do one thing.” she said, her words dripping with disgust.  I was holding my breath waiting to hear what that “one thing” would be.  She hesitated then finally exclaimed  “I’m cancelling my jewelry order!”

Relaxation washed over me and my body slackened, knowing that I was not going to be forced to defend myself and choke out a methhead.  I told her to consider the orders cancelled and her card won’t be charged.  She insisted that she call the girl who ran the show and tell her personally.  I said that would be fine, as long as we made the call from outside my condo (points for me for finally being smart).

We walked out and I was giddy, I still had my eyeballs intact and she was finally leaving!  At that moment I thought it was over.  I could not have been more wrong, actually, this was just the beginning.

PART 3 next week…

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2 Responses to “If Crazy Knocks, Don’t let Her in… (Part 2)”

  1. Hails says:

    I am on the edge of my seat, this woman is like a tv movie come to life!

  2. omg says:

    whatWHAT?

    PART THREE?

    This is like the 90′s when I actually cared whether Lou was dead or if Todd was the father.

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