Allow me to set the scene. To even get inside my apartment building, you have to know the 4-digit door code, or have someone buzz you inside. Once inside, you have four floors with four main hallways containing the entrances to each apartment.

Second, I’m in the process of moving. Beginning at 8pm, I have been doing nothing but packing boxes and furiously pouring beer down my throat for five and a half hours.

11:25PM: Hear six gunshots in quick succession outside window. Elevate threat status to orange.

1:27AM: Hear thumping from hallway outside door, coming closer.

1:28AM: Someone begins hammering on my door. I go investigate. By the time I get to the door, they have moved on to hammering on my neighbor’s door.

1:28AM: I watch through the peephole. Subject is dressed in bright green shirt, black boxer-briefs, no pants. Shows clear signs of intoxication. Begins banging on and kicking my other neighbor’s door, across the hall. Clearly cannot remember where he/his friends live.

1:28:10AM: I decide to get my gun.

1:28:22AM: I recall words a wise man once shared with me: “Never mix alcohol and firearms.” I look at the beer in my hand.

1:28:33AM: I decide to not get my gun.

1:29AM: I ponder how he was alive enough to key in the door code to my building yet not remember the apartment number.

1:30AM: He wanders away. I shotgun a beer and return to packing.

1:30:30AM: He is back and banging and kicking on my door. This annoys me. I return to the peephole. He is staring at my door with his head cocked to one side. Saliva dribbles from his mouth. He is confused as shit. I ponder opening the door and realize I don’t want to deal with this right now.

1:31AM: I go back to packing. I can hear him returning to banging on each of the three doors in succession. Sounds that seem to be slurred drunken curses are coming from his mouth. I decide this is funny and update Facebook and start texting people.

1:33AM: He is now attempting to kick in my door. I think that this is less funny. I go back to the peephole. He has disappeared.

1:35AM: Still no sign of him.

1:38AM: I open the door and poke my head out. The hallway is empty. I think he might be gone.

1:38AM: He comes around the corner. He looks at me, confused. I ask him if he kicked my door. He pauses in the way that very drunk people do when they are attempting to make words. “No.” This confuses me. I do not have a comeback for this.

1:39AM: I ask him to please not kick my door. He burps. I close and lock my door.

1:40AM: Silence. I go back to packing.

1:43AM: He begins hammering on my neighbor’s door. I consider this a victory because while it is loud it is less loud. I finish my beer.

1:45AM: Motherfucker is back to banging on my door! Has he seriously already fucking forgot that he doesn’t live here?

1:46AM: I go back to the peephole. He is gone.

1:47AM: He wanders back into my line of sight. His underwear has now vanished and his penis is wagging gently from side to side. He is not a large man. He stares at my door from across the hallway, then takes a couple running steps and does a jump-kick at my door. His exposed genitals come flying towards my face. The door bulges inward and hits me in the forehead. There is a cracking sound from the doorframe. I fall down.

1:49AM: I see stars. This really fucking hurts.

1:50AM: I no longer find this funny. I decide to call the police.

1:51AM: I cannot find my phone.

1:55AM: I seriously cannot find my fucking phone anywhere.

1:56AM: I realize my phone is in my pocket because I have been texting people. This makes me reconsider calling the police as I may be slightly intoxicated.

1:57AM: I drink some water. All is silent. I wonder if he finally went away.

1:58AM: I open the door and poke my head out. He has put his underwear back on and passed out on the floor between me and my neighbor’s door. I snap a picture.

1:59AM: I crack a beer and ponder calling the police. As I think, I touch my forehead, which hurts. This makes me angry. I decide to exact revenge.

2:00AM: I could assert dominance and pee on him. But that would leave DNA evidence and they could CSI that shit. Because his first thought after waking up smelling like dried piss would be to think that someone peed on him and go down to the local crime lab to have them test it. Drunk me is weird.

2:00:25AM: I could pour warm water over his crotch so he thinks he pissed himself. But he might wake up.

2:01AM: I notice his cell phone is sitting on the pile of clothes next to him. I steal his cell phone. It doesn’t have a lock screen. I am in!

2:02AM: He seems like a douchebag. He must have a dick pic on his phone. I decide to text his dick pic to his parents and any other family members I can find.

2:03AM: There are no dick pics on this phone.

2:04AM: I decide to dump his girlfriend via text message.

2:05AM: I find his girlfriend and scroll through their text messages. They seem cute.

2:06AM: I find a topless photo his girlfriend has sent him. She has extremely large breasts. They are flabby. I decide to send this photo to everyone in his address book.

2:06:05AM: I immediately change my mind because that would be awful. I berate my inner Slytherin.

2:06:25AM: As punishment for my evil side, I decide against breaking up with his girlfriend. His punishment is for him, I can’t go through his girlfriend.

2:07AM: He gets a text from his friend, asking him where he’s at. I text his friend back: “I am fucked up.”

2:07:34AM: His friend texts me back and I learn he got kicked out of a bar.

2:08AM: I decide he needs to come out of the closet and confess his love for his friend. And the explicit dreams.

2:09AM: I scroll through the past text message history to get an idea for phrasing. It’s his 26^th birthday. I decide to not be an asshole.

2:10AM: I am trying to figure out the best way to contact his friends without letting them know someone else has his phone.

2:12AM: I hear someone coming. I wipe all fingerprints from the phone, toss it back on the pile of clothing, and dodge inside my apartment.

2:15AM: I decide to go back to packing.

2:48AM: I decide to see if he’s still alive. I poke my head out the door. He is gone, except for two wet socks.

3:19AM: My head really fucking hurts. I should have done something mean.