Should have taken your keys with you, man.

[Dudeist Monk]

So, bit of background. I live in a block of flats/apartments in a semi-rough area. In my time in this apartment I've had my fair share of, uh, shtuff happen. You know, the usual. Junkies shooting up outside my apartment door, jealous boyfriends trying to kick in my door (it was a case of mistaken identity, I swear! Never rub another man's rhubarb is how I roll), prostitutes soliciting door to door (I still jerk off manually) and homeless guys just trying to stay warm in winter ... etc. So, you get the idea. Open your door cautiously is what I'm saying.

Anyway, I come back into the main room after visiting the bathroom. The cat's going apeshit, my window is wide open and there's a hand grasping on the window frame. "What the fuck?!?" was the first thought and "Aw, hell no!" was the second. I get to the window and, I shit you not, a guy is hanging on the window frame in his underpants and wearing a blanket tied around his neck. Superman style.

...

Yeah.

Seeing me, he drops back down to the ground (My apartment is just slightly off ground level. The block is an old warehouse that's been converted).

"Sorry, mate, I was just trying to get in." He says.
"That's obvious." Says I.
"No, I mean, I was putting out my rubbish (trash to you yanks) and got locked out. Can you let me in?" He replies.

So, look, I may have been on the far end of the Walter Spectrum today. Some new shit had come to light, you know. But, I didn't know this guy from Adam (strangely enough, it later turns out he is called Adam, but that's beside the point). Never seen him in the communal areas, never seen him taking out the trash, never seen him coming or going. Past experience had shown that weird shit happens nine times out of ten in my area.

"Nah, man. Sorry, but I don't let people in the flats unless I know they live here." I said, apologetically.
"It's okay. I understand"

And he wanders around the corner. In his underpants. And his Superman blanket.

A minute or so later, my Dudeliness took more control and I thought, "Fuck it, man. He's in his fucking underpants!"

I rush out the front door (keys in hand. I'm not that fucking stupid) and try to find the guy. If he doesn't live here, I'll deal with that later. If he's a Superman themed murderer, I'll deal with that (I've watched Kung Fu. I get it. Carradine was the Boss).

Can't see him.

Look around. Nope. Can't see him.

"Oh fuck!" I hear from above me.

There's this guy. Two floors up holding on to a drainpipe with his blanket cape flapping in the breeze. Well, I say 'holding'. 'Desperately clinging' may be a more appropriate choice of words. Um, maybe he should have dressed like Spider-man instead? He was stuck. Terrified and could neither continue climbing up or climb down. The dumb fuck.

It just so happens that, at the point I'm scratching my head trying to figure out how to help this dumbass, two cops are driving by in a van, stop and start asking the serious questions.

"What the actual fuck?!?" Asks one cop while the other just shakes her head and starts calling in for the Fire Brigade/Department.

Long story made a little shorter, after two Fire engines (what do Americans call them? Appliances? Trucks? I don't know. Those big red fuckers with ladders on them) arrive and thirty minutes of persuasion and cajoling, the guys reaches the ground ... and promptly gets arrested. In his underpants and his Superman cape.

Before they took him away, I grabbed a pair of sweat pants, a t-shirt and an old pair of sneakers for the guy to wear in the cells.

Well, it was the least I could do after not letting him in, letting him get trapped two stories up and letting him get arrested.

[BikerDude]

Sound reasoning Dude!
Never trust a anyone in underpants and a blanket cape.

[Dudeist Monk]

Thanks, man. I've been deeply conflicted about the whole thing all day. It has seriously harshed my mellow. And there's no damn bowling alley nearby so I can't even fuck it and go bowling!

[BikerDude]

Hey man don't sweat it.
You can't let these nihilists mess with you.
It's about drawing a line in the sand.
Across this line you shall not... and Dude fire engine is the preferred uh...

[jgiffin]

Man, that's a great story. It almost makes me miss living in the ghetto. Almost. I'm not fucking crazy. Not going back there.

The last straw was having a dream where gunshots were fired outside my bedroom window. My apartment was right next to, but elevated above, the  building's back entrance. When I went out to my car the next morning, I saw like three or four shell casings on the stoop. Fuuuuck that.

[Dudeist Monk]

Well, I'm in the UK so guns are rare. I reckon, if they weren't rare, there'd more than a few gunshots around here, though. Like I say, this area is semi-rough. I've lived in worse areas and I'm certain there are areas far, far more rough than the places I've lived. :-/

Still haven't seen the guy since. I wonder if he's in custody "for his own protection"?

[Dudette222]

Dude if they arrested him then he obviously doesn't live in your flats! Your gut instinct was right. If he had got into your place, he would have definitely peed on your rug.

[Dudeist Monk]

Yeah. That would have been a real bummer. There's no Big Lebowski for me to get restitution from if that had happened.