"What can I do for you?"
We need to talk to you for a minute. Press the button and open the [building] door, please.
"Uh, no, actually I can't; my phone doesn't hold the tone long enough. But give me a minute, and I'll be right out."
I put on pants and such, not sure what's going on. Wonder what could have happened to the van in the parking lot. Grab my keys, lock apartment door on the way out -- sometimes hard to tell in advance when one will be away for a while.... Enter the lobby, and see FOUR cops standing in, *filling* the entryway. Push the door to the entryway open, and ask what I can do for them.
"We got a call, there was a fight in your apartment."
Surprised, incredulous, "In *my* apartment?"
Cop #2, smiling but clearly exasperated, "No, we made it up, we were just driving around and thought we'd stop by and mess with the guy in #308."
"OK, well, I don't know what to tell you, I've been here alone all night, there's nothing but me and the TV, and it's not been on loud or playing any action. I haven't heard any fight noises from the surrounding apartments, either."
"Yeah, and we can't tell you anything but what's been reported."
"Sure, uh, you want to come look, and see there's no fight going on?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind, we can just look in the door, that should be enough."
OK, so I unlock the entryway door which I'd let close in my initial surprise (and they, rather shockingly, didn't hold open), and walk through the main lobby, pulling the door to the hall of apartment doors open. They're drifting along behind me, not in any rush, nor making much effort to keep up.
I get to my door at the end of the hall, and unlock it -- as one of them says "It's 305, not 308." He had apparently been on the radio starting when I was clearly surprised by any such report having been called in.
They confer amongst themselves a moment, figure out that the dispatcher had misread something at some point, and one of them knocks at my neighbor's door, across and down the hall from me, while exasperated #2 comes further down the hall to thank me for my cooperation, and apologize for the dispatcher...
"No problem," I say. "Stuff happens."
And return to the Twilight Zone marathon on SciFi, actually playing some episodes I've never seen before...
I should go to sleep soon, and let the surreality infest my dreamspace, instead of my waking space.