It Gets Better...

If you haven't read yesterday's post, The Jig is Up!, you should probably go read that first. Then you can come back here for the postscript.

I just got back from talking to the property manager about yesterday's little salt bust. As I thought, it was the contractor doing the fan coil service who noticed the bag of sea salt on my counter. By policy, he had to report it to his supervisor, since I suppose seeing it could endanger him. The company then contacted our property management office, who then called the police.

There had been a miscommunication between the two property managers: the one who had taken the call from the contractor told the other that I was the person who'd been having problems with his air conditioner. Apparently, there was another person who had been having such problems, and that's who she described to the police.

After she called the police, two officers arrived and waited outside my door for about an hour and a half. At the same time, they were trying to obtain a search warrant. The two others arrived just before I did, when they determined that they didn't have strong enough cause for a warrant.

Before leaving the management office today, I had to ask if anyone had noticed the pieces of my halloweeen costume lying around my living room, and what they had thought of that. I'm going to be an angel, so there were wings, a halo, and a white feather boa that I just dropped off when I got home on Sunday evening.

Apparently, the superintendent had noticed them, and described them to the police as "paraphernalia." Of course, they probably assumed he meant drug paraphernalia, not party paraphernalia. They did clarify, but I wonder if having angel parts strewn around made me seem like more of a druggy little party boy.