Freaky!

Okay, so my roommate tumbles into my apartment with thousands of grocery bags. She tells me that someone was following her home while she took the shuttle and was nearly in tears. :( Then she went to call her family.

Then someone knocked on our door. I decided to answer it. My roommate had described the guy as African American, but the guy didn\’t look African American at all. He asked for Shirley. I told him that nobody by that name lived in the apartment. Then I proceeded to ask where he was from and why he was there. \”Hawaii. I came a long way.\” Yeah yeah. I asked him whether he knew Shirley\’s number, but he did not. I asked him why would he even get to Berkeley if he didn\’t know where she lived. Then he gave a sheepish smile and agreed that he probably was in the wrong place. Then I politely apologized and directed him toward City Hall…or some other organization. Then I closed the door.

I felt that I was kind of full of it. I was about to ask my roommate whether that was the guy, but then I remembered her describing him as African American. So I didn\’t say anything. But I felt bad…so I went downstairs and looked around the apartment building. The stairs to the roof. Nobody. The stairwell was empty. I went back upstairs.

I asked my roommate whether he had a white beard. She freaked out. It was the guy. So I decided to check around again. Nobody in the stairs. I looked outside our front door and my heart leapt. He was there. I opened the front door and asked accusingly, \”What are you doing here?\”

\”Oooh I have been evicted…\” he said.

Then as politely as I could, I said that I would call a hostel for him. \”Just a minute!\” I smiled.

I ran back upstairs and ran into my apartment. Then I told my roommate to call the police. About five minutes later (or ten…), the police arrived. I talked to the officer for a bit describing my story. Then he talked to my roommate. Then the police officer went away to talk to the shuttle driver who drove my roommate home.

So freaky.