Albert was the first neighbor we met after moving into the new place. Albert was roughly middle aged and didn’t really seem to fit in well. He drove a beat up Cadillac when he left his apartment which was rare, and he continually left his door open and blared hip hop music over the parking lot.
Albert made his debut as he sat on his deck and watched us unload the moving truck. Literally. The man probably eyeballed every box and item we unloaded. He managed to ask my roommate for a trip to the check cashing place because he was too drunk to drive. We all sort of laughed it off that night, but it was two days later when I had my first (and last) run in with him.
It was Friday afternoon; I had the day off and my niece was out of school. She spent the night and hung out with me all day until my sister came to pick her up at 3. Maybe 10 minutes passed when I get a phone call; apparently they were still in the parking lot and she needed help. I freaked out and ran downstairs, blowing past a laughing Albert as he sat on the stairs below his apartment landing watching everything unfold. In the parking lot my sister was talking to a strange black woman while my niece sorta hide behind her leg. I walked up and the woman turned to me.
“Oh my God! Theresa is this your brutha? Nice to meet you Theresa’s brutha! Me and her been friends a looong time.” I took one look at this woman and the first word that sprang to mind was “crack whore”. There was a flaky whiteness around her mouth/nose. Her hair was wild, and she was wearing shorts, tank top, and flip-flops. She sniffled a lot, and I don’t think she was in need of some Benedryl. I turned to my sister and gave her a BS story about other sister waiting on her. My niece, ever happy to play along chimed in with “Oh boy we’re going to Aunt Chel’s house!”. My sister fled and I began walking toward the building with the crack whore following me. She rambled on about how she was trying to get Theresa to give her a ride because she needed to check on her baby right? Her baby daddy wasn’t home to watch the kids, just her 14 year old… the story got bigger and better every second. I knew better but I asked anyway:
“So uh…how did you two meet?”
“Oh we met a looong time ago, downtown. I haven’t seen your sister in forever! What’s your name? I know Theresa told me but I done forgot”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Say, you got a car?”
“Nope, my roommate is at work in it.”
“How about a phone?”
“Nope, just moved in. No service yet.”
By this point, we were starting up the stairs, and Albert was watching us both. We get to the landing and she starts in again.
“So which one you live in?”
“One on the third floor.”
“You aren’t being too specific.”
“Nope, I’m not. Have a nice day.”
At this point Albert stands up and tells her to get back in the house. I go on upstairs and lock the door to call my sister.
As it turns out Albert had apparently picked up this crack whore downtown and brought her back out here. She got here and freaked out and was trying to leave or call someone to come get her. My sister never would tell me why she gave the woman her name.
One call to the front office later and Albert was told to move. Surprisingly enough this wasn’t the first complaint against him.