Saturday afternoon, Kristie and I are sitting at our computers in the kitchen. The way our apartment building is built in a square shape. More like a hollow square. In the middle of the building is an open air concrete "courtyard" (only used by maintenance) that is surrounded by all four walls of the apartment building. So, when maintenance guys, or whoever, is down on the ground in the "courtyard", you can hear their voices echoing pretty well around the walls. Think of it as a giant chimney.
At our computers, we hear a man and woman arguing like mad. It's echoing fairly well, so we just assume they are on the ground in the concrete courtyard area. We don't think much of it, because you can hear arguing every so often from people's apartments. Just a nuisance of living compacted with people. We ignore it, plus the words were pretty inaudible, so we couldn't even tell what they were saying. About 10 minutes passes, and we notice they are still going at it, even louder. Out of curiosity, I walk over to the den to open the window really slightly so I can put my ear down to maybe make out a word or two (still thinking that the people are down on the ground level. We live on the 4th floor.) Suddenly, just after I open the shades and am opening the window, I hear something above me sliding/grinding -- like someone is shoving a heavy cardboard box through the window frame that is a little too small -- and instantly I see something fall right in front of me passed the window, in front of my face. It hit the ground, and it sounded like a shotgun going off. I kept telling myself it was a bag of garbage, or a box, or anything. I went back to the kitchen and I knew -- it was a person. The 5th floor above us is vacant, and this one one the 6th floor.
From the sound of the noise, Kristie thought there had been a gunshot, until I told her something fell in front of me, and I thought it was a body. I went and put my ear to the window to listen, and heard the man on the phone. Heard him say the word "suicide."
The cops were there within 10 minutes. I kept my ear to the window. The first guy there yelled up to the guy, who was apparently still in his window (he never even went down and checked on the person), "Who are you??! Who the fuck are you, and who is this??!" The guy, completely unemotional, responds, "She's my wife. I live in 6E. Is she alive or is she gone." Completely deadpanned. Completely cold. And completely fucked up sounding. Drunk or drugs, who knows, but definitely one of the two. Cops came very fast, swarmed the whole building. Eventually took the guy away. Heard one cop in the hallway say, "That guy was really fucked up."
Within 2 hours, the NY Post called, asking if we knew anything about a woman who "fell out or was pushed out of a window in your apartment building." We said no, and hung up.
After a while, with all the cops all over, we eventually got freaked and left the apartment to go get some food. Let the whole thing settle for a while. So we went to a mexican restaurant down the street, drank lots of tequila, and went to the strip club. The strip club was highly disappointing, and Kristie and I spent most of the time making fun of the strippers. With Kristie even giving them advice on how to make more money.
We still don't know if it was a suicide or homocide. Haven't heard anything, or seen anyone up and down the stairs. But then again, we had no idea who lived up there in the first place. Maybe have seen them before unknowingly, but who knows. We also made a conscious effort to not be seen in the windows (and I'm glad I didn't stick my head out of the window after the fall to see what happened) so that the neighbor did not see us and have a face of who lived under him.
So, that's my definitive New York story.... for now. For my first year of residence. Watching someone fall in front of my face. If I top that within my next year, I will be quite impressed.
At least the tequila and strippers were good.
