Dear Drunk Sexy Witch,
I realize we don't really know each other. But I'm guessing you live in my building based on your reply to me when I said that I was going to call the cops.
"Please," you slurred and stumbled in your witch costume. "There's a key under a mat for me if you could just let me inside."
So I did, but know what else happened? I could not fall asleep again. You had woken me up, my dog kept barking and my sleep was pretty much ruined for the night.
Now, I've had this happen before. The drunk late-night buzzer-ringer. But you and I actually shared a personal connection. After your fifth long buzz, I opened my window and we spoke. I didn't have a whole lot of time to tell you everything I wanted to, which is why I'm laying it out here. A few suggestions for the next time you find yourself in a situation like this.
By the way, hot costume.
1. If it's 4AM, and you don't have a way into your apartment building, please find another place to stay.
Did you know that there are several motels located in the city that are very convenient? Simply open up the Yelp app in your phone (it's a free download if you don't have it already) and then search for the closest one. You could also hail a cab and ask the cab driver to find you an open motel.
I understand that we all want to spend the night in our own apartments, but if you don't have a way inside, buzzing every ringer -- or mine in particular five times in a row -- until someone is finally woken up is not the solution to your problem. It is incredibly rude and thoughtless. Honestly, part of me wishes I did just call the cops. This is not very spiritual of me, I realize, but you know, I was grumpy and tired.
2. If someone doesn't answer a buzz on the first buzz -- especially if it's at 4AM -- please take that hint. Do not keep buzzing.
Did you hear my dog barking -- and that's what inspired you to keep buzzing? The first time was rude. The second time was maddening. The third time made me want to throw a bucket of water out the window and see if you melted. And the fourth time made me want to follow you upstairs and just continue to imitate the buzzer every step you took. "BZZZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZZZ." That's what I would have sounded like.
The fifth time, I asked myself what would Jesus do, and I realized that he would probably have gone for a bucket of water too. Note to future self: Keep a bucket of water by the window.
3. What about a freaking pitbull barking do you not understand?
Did this not scare you? Because it sure as hell scared me. There are so many other options that don't involve scaring the hell out of me and my dog.
Go take an early morning jog. Go meditate in a 7/11 with plenty of snacks. Go take a cab drive and ask the cab driver, "Take me where the action is!" Depending on the luck of the draw, you'll either end up at the Port Authority or Marquee. It's an adventure! And one that doesn't involve me or my dog or a bucket of water, which I'm currently in the process of acquiring.
4. You know that whole "whoever smelt it dealt it" adage? Same applies for whatever awesome party you just came from. Go back there. Not here.
I'm sorry you do not have a building key. Very sorry. Super duper honest to God sorry. But you know who does and is still awake? Whoever threw whatever radical party you just came from. Go back there. Ask if they have a couch. Ask if they have $60 for a motel. Ask if they want to get involved in a serious open relationship that would involve you sleeping on the bed just for that one night only. Ask whatever you want so long as it does not involve buzzing my door at 4AM ever again.
5. Know what I do when I mess up? I say, "I'm sorry."
Where was my basket of "I'm sorry I woke you up the other night" tchotchkes? A Starbucks gift card would have been nicely suited for the occasion. Even just the old WASP-y favorite of the personalized monogrammed stationery with some heartfelt words of regret, angst and personal inventory assessed. "I've looked deep inside myself, and I deeply regret..."
Hell, after I woke up my roommates years ago by bringing home a busboy and knocking over my TV amidst all the boot-knocking excitement, I knew well enough to get them some yellow roses as penance for waking them up -- at the very least as a half-hearted sorry-I-screwed-up-your-REM-cycle gesture. For future reference, incidentally: I don't really give a crap about roses. Except when it's the Craigslist code for money.
Have a nice life, drunk sexy witch without the building key, please don't ever do that again,
Find Mandy long-form at http://tinyurl.com/stadtmiller.