Around 2am (what I call the Weirdo Hour) a very tall guy a hat approached the locked front door. The first thing that struck me about him was that he was wearing baggy sweatpants and a heavy coat, gloves and a mask in the middle of summer. Very suspicious. He kept trying the pry open the door with his hands, a personal pet peeve of mine. Then he kicked it a few times. Then he knelt and tried to open the door from the bottom. After a few minutes of this, he rang the buzzer, and I answer via intercom.
Me: Hello can I help you?
Suspicious dude: I'm just tryna...jus tryna visit ma fren on the 4th floor.
Me: What is his name? And his room number?
SD: Joe...or somethin' I can' rememba.
Me: You can't remember your own friend name?!
SD: I'm sorry, I gotta terrible memory.
Me: What about the room number.
SD: 4666...or somethin.
Me: ....-_-
Me: Okay we don't have a '4666' here-
SD: *interrupts me* I'm sowee! I gotta bad memory! Look if you just open da door--
Me: I'm sorry but if you can't remember the name or room number, I can't open the door. Please leave.
He didn't leave, he rang the buzzer a few more times and I grabbed the phone and called the cops on him. Usually I warn them if I will but he was freaking me out and he stole our newspaper. He took off before the cops came, and I babbled to them what happened. They jsut wanted to know which way he went. I told them and they left. He kind of reminded me of that time when I went just outside to bring the newspapers and I bent over and when I looked up, there was this easily 6'6" guy looming over me behind me. I screamed and dropped the newspapers and ran to the back office. He kind of looked like Hagrid from Harry potter. Except without the friendliness. Brr. Really, even if he was telling the truth, who wears a hat and heavy clother in the summer?? I'm still shaken, probably though because I've been watching old horror movie reruns, a morbid fascination of mine. :\ Now what to do about our newspaper, the guests will be MAD.
Me: Hello can I help you?
Suspicious dude: I'm just tryna...jus tryna visit ma fren on the 4th floor.
Me: What is his name? And his room number?
SD: Joe...or somethin' I can' rememba.
Me: You can't remember your own friend name?!
SD: I'm sorry, I gotta terrible memory.
Me: What about the room number.
SD: 4666...or somethin.
Me: ....-_-
Me: Okay we don't have a '4666' here-
SD: *interrupts me* I'm sowee! I gotta bad memory! Look if you just open da door--
Me: I'm sorry but if you can't remember the name or room number, I can't open the door. Please leave.
He didn't leave, he rang the buzzer a few more times and I grabbed the phone and called the cops on him. Usually I warn them if I will but he was freaking me out and he stole our newspaper. He took off before the cops came, and I babbled to them what happened. They jsut wanted to know which way he went. I told them and they left. He kind of reminded me of that time when I went just outside to bring the newspapers and I bent over and when I looked up, there was this easily 6'6" guy looming over me behind me. I screamed and dropped the newspapers and ran to the back office. He kind of looked like Hagrid from Harry potter. Except without the friendliness. Brr. Really, even if he was telling the truth, who wears a hat and heavy clother in the summer?? I'm still shaken, probably though because I've been watching old horror movie reruns, a morbid fascination of mine. :\ Now what to do about our newspaper, the guests will be MAD.
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