Saga with upstairs neighbors continues

The ambulance has just pulled away with a young woman strapped to a backboard. She fell out of a second story apartment and landed on the ground just outside my bedroom window -- the victim of a party gone bad.

Earlier in the evening I debated whether to call security or someone because of all the commotion upstairs. As I had convinced myself that yes, indeed, I should call, the commotion seemed to die down. So, I decided to go to bed and attempt to sleep, but I turned on the TV because I knew I would still need something to cover up the noise.

Is I was getting comfortable in bed, trying to relax, I hear a thud outside my bedroom window, which is open a bit for fresh air, since the complex I live in doesn't have air conditioning. The thud is followed by several more thuds and voices.

"It she alright?"

"No she's hurt"

"But is she alright?"

"No, she's not alright! Call 9-1-1."

"Somebody call 9-1-1. But call for an ambulance, not the cops."

"9-1-1 is 9-1-1, it's emergency dispatch, it's all the same thing."

"Don't call the cops."

"We have to call an ambulance, she's hurt."

A chorus of voices, bickering and bantering while someone calls 9-1-1 and a young woman lies on the ground. One person tells a dispatcher what happened. And within a few seconds a siren can be heard in the distance drawing closer.

A couple of guys bicker about whether they should stay around or not. One says he can't stay. I can't quite make out his reason, but it sounded like he may have been on probation or something.

So, the ambulance arrives and I venture outside for a look at the scene, which up til now I had only been able to hear pouring through the windows or pounding through the ceiling.

And ambulance and fire truck arrive and soon two police cruisers arrive as well. The EMTs tent to the wounded girl, who was conscious enough to answer some question to aid in her care.

I walk back around to the front of the apartments, and soon a convention of neighbors gathers to shared their complaints about the occupants and the Party Pad. It seems like people on both sides of the parking lot have complained about the characters parading in and out of that apartment right over my head. So far it seems I have had the highest tolerance for the level of noise. But in typical fashion I maintain my patience and don't complain until I lose all patience. Then I'm done. And I'm so done with this yahoos.

This is the second time in recent weeks cops and an ambulance have been dispatched. I'm tired of finding and picking up their cigarette butts and beer cans around my patio. I'm tired of the juvenile hijinx and noise. And I'm tired of losing sleep over those punks.

Neighbors
Apartment living