Home > College, Disturbing, Missouri, Stupidity, Worry > The Time My Friend Got Robbed

The Time My Friend Got Robbed

November 22, 2011 Leave a comment Go to comments

This incident took place during my Summer of Netflix in college.

One of my super brainy friends was doing intense research that summer while I sat on my ass and watched old kung-fu movies. She initially moved into an apartment on the “bad” side of the Delmar Loop, which was an area that had a reputation for crime.

The apartment itself was abysmal, and when I went over to help her move in, I was completely horrified. There was no A/C during a St. Louis summer, and temperatures in the kitchen would frequently rise to over 100 degrees. There was also no hot water, but since you were boiling at all times anyway, the chilly showers were actually a relief.

The kitchen was swarming with flies when I arrived. Half a dozen partially tied garbage bags littered the floor, and trash had spilled out to rot. The flies were having a field day, and the smell was overpowering. My friend stood by, speechless. This was not the condition that had been described when she rented the apartment.

We started by throwing out the garbage bags, then turned our attention to the dishes. They were piled so high that they overflowed out of the sink, and flies were nestled amongst the plates. I tried to drain the sink, but it was clogged with what looked like old vomit. It was either that or ancient vegetable soup that had been partially mashed. The drain catch lurking at the bottom of this cesspit was a lost cause, and we threw it on top of the trash bags. We proceeded to clean this disgusting kitchen with only a fan to protect us against the heat.

I was dripping sweat within moments.

I urged her to move out of this horror house, but the rent was just too cheap for her to let it go. I had a spare bedroom in my apartment, but at twice the price of her sweltering room, she wouldn’t take it.

That is, until someone tried to rob her.

I was relaxing in my ice-cold apartment, A/C on high, when the doorbell started going off. Not just once or twice, but like someone was ringing in fear for her life. I found my friend at the bottom of the stairs, pale and sweaty. She had sprinted all the way from her apartment to mine after discovering that someone had pried open her door. Too afraid to venture into a room where a robber might be lurking, she sensibly ran out of the building. But instead of calling the cops, she senselessly ran to me. What was I supposed to do about this?

I figured that maybe she was overreacting, and to humor her, I armed myself with a hammer before making the trek back to her place. I stopped by another friend’s apartment for reinforcements, and she came along with a baseball bat in tow, making us a team of three. Oh, yeah. This was a great idea.

We cautiously entered her building and made our way up four flights of stairs. Her door definitely looked damaged with the doorknob dangling and paint chips scattered all over the floor. Well, shit, there was actually a robber! I felt really stupid and scared as I clutched my lame hammer, but gamely pushed open the door to see what we were dealing with.

Oddly enough, nothing in the apartment had been disturbed. Whoever had tried to break in had obviously hacked at the door with a crowbar several times, but didn’t actually enter the apartment, or at least didn’t take anything. My guess is that he heard my friend come up to the door, then run away, and he panicked and fled. With great relief, the three of us sank onto the couch and called the cops, like we should have done in the first place.

An officer came over and filed a report, but since nothing had been stolen, there wasn’t much to be done. We just needed to replace the doorknob since the handle had come off in our hands when we entered.

But my friend was having none of this, and moved out of the apartment that very day. She spent the remainder of the summer basking in A/C in a relatively safe apartment that was free of flies.

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  1. November 22, 2011 at 7:05 pm

    Aah! I’m famous!!!!! I love it. Such a great story (and summer!) no matter how many times we talk about it. We were funny young’uns….

  2. November 22, 2011 at 7:06 pm

    Also, loving the photo that accompanies this post.

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