When I was in highschool I was home alone at an apartment complex, already riddled with anxiety, and would never answer the door.
Cops started banging on the door one day and it sounded like they switched to kicking at one point. Bellowing about how they’ll arrest anyone inside unless we open up.
They went around back and started banging on the glass sliding door when it didn’t slide open, which would of course have been claimed to be open the whole time I’m sure.
The management office across the street had left minutes beforehand, and one yelled about getting the keys, went over to bang on that door too.
After about half an hour of me frantically trying to get a response from my sister or parents, the former ignoring me because higshcool siblings, the latter were on a date night, they got really quiet and all hurried away. I assume someone finally realized they were in the wrong place. Were it any other situation I would have had things handled, but I was not prepared for cops.
Management got pissy about the boot scuffs all over the white door, and refused to believe it was cops since “police don’t make mistakes” (whitest boomer Karen you’ve never seen said this) and demanded we pay for the damage. My parents stuck by my story. Ultimately management just repainted everyone’s doors and trim a month later so it didn’t matter.
When I was in highschool I was home alone at an apartment complex, already riddled with anxiety, and would never answer the door.
Cops started banging on the door one day and it sounded like they switched to kicking at one point. Bellowing about how they’ll arrest anyone inside unless we open up.
They went around back and started banging on the glass sliding door when it didn’t slide open, which would of course have been claimed to be open the whole time I’m sure.
The management office across the street had left minutes beforehand, and one yelled about getting the keys, went over to bang on that door too.
After about half an hour of me frantically trying to get a response from my sister or parents, the former ignoring me because higshcool siblings, the latter were on a date night, they got really quiet and all hurried away. I assume someone finally realized they were in the wrong place. Were it any other situation I would have had things handled, but I was not prepared for cops.
Management got pissy about the boot scuffs all over the white door, and refused to believe it was cops since “police don’t make mistakes” (whitest boomer Karen you’ve never seen said this) and demanded we pay for the damage. My parents stuck by my story. Ultimately management just repainted everyone’s doors and trim a month later so it didn’t matter.
ACAB/ALLAB Combo right there.