So, at 6am this morning I was startled awake from a dead sleep by someone yelling “Help Help! Help! repeatedly outside. Now I live in a complex that well, how should I say, is a little like a place you would imagine is “on the other side of the tracks” and not in a good way. Not that I knew that moving in. Especially since it’s blocks from a high-end steak house and a rich neighborhood.  But the longer I’m here it seems to be more and more like I picked the wrong side of the street to live on. I’ve been here barely over a year, and this was yet another incident I was about to get into the middle of again. The first was the old woman that drove her car through the wall in front of her apartment, who wanted to drive into her living room instead of walk in. The 2nd was 911 when the pipe exploded and no one knew where the water shut-off valves were for the whole building.

Bleary-eyed and in my pajamas, I rush out to find who is yelling thinking maybe somebody fell on the stairs and broke a hip, and being a nurse I can’t help myself. I hear on my right above is some man yelling help! help! call the fire department I’m going to get electrocuted! I yell where are you? He says up here! I walk partially up the stairs and there he is: on the top floor, standing at his open apartment door, clothes and items strewn about in front of his door.

And the good part: he is buck naked.

Ok then.

Obviously, no broken hip.

He’s yelling non-stop “I can’t go in, I’ll get electrocuted!

I talk calmly knowing I’m in the midst of a mental health crisis to put it nicely.  “Ok don’t worry I’ll call someone I tell him calmly. Just then a man came from the naked guy’s left, trying to calm him down. He comes down the stairs toward me tells me he lives below the guy and I say have you called 911?

“No”

Well as usual, it”s me, so I go get my cell phone.

The naked guy was still hallucinating and yelling continuously, his voice echoing throughout the breezeway,  and the guy that was below him I’ll call the programmer, managed to go inside and find the naked guy’s ID in the middle of the commotion. He said there was water on the floor with wet towels and what looked like maybe he had tried to light something. I now have 911 on and tell them what is going on and they wanted to know was he on a balcony? No, he’s in the breezeway can’t you hear him yelling? I say. What’s his name? they ask. I yell up the stairs and ask Naked’s name and pass it on.

Naked guy now comes down the stairs talking and rambling about “being on fire” he stops halfway and lays down on the cement steps with all his jewels out and now I can’t unsee what I just saw.

It’s 45 F btw, and the cold is not slowing Naked down at all.

So, I ask him some questions to distract him from the yelling and he tells me he takes medication  “Xanax and something that sounds like catapres.” I asked when was the last time he took it? “I don’t know, I poured water on them because they are on fire.” I then asked him about his medical and mental health history and he volunteered he has a “borderline personality disorder.” I’m trying to keep him calm along with the programmer. It’s now been almost 30 minutes and no cops, no fire department or ambulance anywhere yet.  I’m now getting irritated, as the last time I called 911 it took an hour. Maybe if I said “dead guy on the ground” or “naked guy trying to jump off the balcony” they would have come sooner?

Or is it because I live in a complex that the cops know too well and probably roll their eyes each time someone calls 911, and me being the 3^rd one this past year to do so. I’m thinking they may know my name by now so perhaps I should change it.

Still yelling random things about burning up and possible electrocution,  Naked is now decided to lay down on the cement landing between the top floor and 2nd floor rolling around and showing his nether regions front and back.  Yeah, now I see all the holes. Lucky me. I watch him from a distance through the railings of the stair rails not wanting to get any closer than needed.

I’m getting antsy myself and I’m like where the F*** is the cops?? At what point is Naked gonna come the rest of the way down the stairs and start wandering the place? I mean really.

Then suddenly one pulls up in front of the building followed by 5 more cars. Ok, so we bring the whole police department after almost 40 minutes. It’s about time as me and the programmer are getting tired of babysitting Naked for shit’s sake.   So, they finally come up the stairs and the first thing the burly big cop says to Naked, “Why are you naked!? In a very confrontational way. Where’s your underwear?

Great, that’s one way to talk to a person amid a psychosis, instead of saying “What’s your name sir? What’s happening? I mean anything else might have been better. Granted he was naked and had no weapons on him unless it was up his arse hole, but really guys are you not trained to be a little more calming when you speak to a soon to be locked up in a mental ward person?  Won’t being confrontational cause increased agitation? Not to mention not once did they speak to me or ask about my involvement in this 6AM crisis. Go figure.

Next, I see 4 or 5 more cops milling about upstairs, downstairs, and in front of Naked and his spread eagle legs with it all just a-hanging.  One cop asks if they can go in his apartment and Naked says yes, and they stand him up and handcuff him while they go in.

Burly cop then goes up to secure the apartment and find clothes for the guy. I hand the nearest cop to me Naked’s ID and  I watch as he calls in the guy’s name, I guess to have him looked up. I’m imagining someone saying “Oh yeah we know him, last time he was naked on the corner too,”  then I hear him call the fire department and ambulance. About time I’m thinking.

So down comes a burly cop from Naked’s apartment with a shirt and pants. Then they all look at each other like who’s going to help the guy put his pants on. As a nurse, my instinct was to jump in and help. But nope, it’s not happening.  They didn’t even ask my name so I’m not doing your dirty work plus there are seven of them and one me. I did notice only one female cop in the posse, and she turned and went down the stairs just as the “who’s gonna put pants on the naked guy” decision was being made. Great timing.

She probably thought I ain’t doing it” You men can put his pants on.

So, the younger cop of the three starts to help the guy. Poor guy, low on the totem pole no doubt. Here ya go rookie, put his pants on so we don’t have to stare at his family jewels anymore, while the older and fatter cops stand back.  Finally, the paramedics arrived. They immediately ask how naked ended up on the bottom stairs, not knowing he walked down the stairs and chose to sit there spread eagled. But at least they are treating him more like a patient.

Me and the programmer are speaking and step away. At some point they finally take the guy away, most likely to the nearest psychiatric emergency room where he can be sedated.

The good news: at least the guy’s apartment wasn’t on fire so the rest of us did not have to run for our lives. This reminds me I need an overnight bag with all my legal papers ready to go for the next possible disaster.

The bad news: if the programmer and I hadn’t come out, no one would have come out of their unit to help.

That has me concerned. The walls are like paper in this old complex. I hear everything: the people upstairs, people arguing next door, anyone walking the breezeway outside my door, and all the traffic as if it was five feet from my front door.

This means everyone heard what I and the programmer heard. Someone yelling help help! help!  And no one came out. Only me and the programmer guy. Wtf people?

What will happen if I fall down the stairs? Will anyone come out if I yell? Or only if I yell fire!? Or better yet “$100 bucks to anyone that will help me! What will it take?

But seriously this guy could have been burning things in the unit in his psychotic state, if no one came out, then what?

Or the lady that drove through the wall, I mean I already must watch where I park, and now keep an eye out for smoke and naked psychotic people too?

WTF is all I have to say.

And it’s not even a full moon.

Better have an escape bag and maybe a gun.

Who’s F*** idea was this to move in here anyway?

Somewhere in Texas on the other side of the tracks.