In which Our Hero interacts with one separate yet equally important group… Dun dun…
At 8:32am, my doorbell rings three times in quick succession. I groggily roll over and tell Partner I got it. I walk to the door and flick the peephole to open. “POLICE!” says the voice on the other side. The peephole is dark as though covered by something. The something moves. I now see 3 bodies.
“One sec.” I reply. The voice on the other side grunts something noncommittal.
Naked, I go to the bathroom and pee for what feels like a very long time.
I then toss on yesterday’s shirt and pants. I tell Partner, “What do we tell cops?”
She replies something like, “The truth?”
“Nothing,” I reply. “We tell cops nothing.”
On the way to the door, I grab my hat. Just before opening the door, I turn on voice memo mode on my phone.
I open the door. It’s a man in front, two women standing one on either side behind him. The following is a direct transcript.
Me: Hey, good morning.
Cop: Good morning, how are you doing? My name is Austin, from the New York City Police Department. Sorry to bother you.
Me: No worries.
Cop: What’s your name?
Me: Julian.
Cop: Julian, are you the only one that lives here?
Me: Yeah.
Cop: You just moved in here?
Me: Yeah.
Cop: How long ago?
Me: End of January.
Cop: End of January. Do you know who used to live here before you?
Me: No.
Cop: Oh, okay. Do you get any, is it just you that lives here?
Me: My partner is here at the moment, but I’m the only one who lives here.
Cop: Who’s your partner then?
Me: Nikki.
Cop: Nikki. Do you get any mail, or used to, for this name?
[He holds out a piece of paper. It’s a mug shot with statistics.]
Me: [Mispronunciation of the mug shot person’s name]?
Cop: Yes.
Me: I’m not familiar with that person.
Cop: No mail?
Me: No.
Cop: She look familiar to you?
Me: No.
Cop: No.
Me: I received, maybe like two weeks ago, a letter or two in the mailbox that was not addressed to me, and clearly wasn’t for me, and so what people usually do is they put it on the thing next to it, and then when the guy comes by to deliver the mail, he’ll take it back.
[I promise English is my first language.]
Cop: Do you know if it was for her?
Me: I don’t remember.
Cop: Don’t remember, yeah. Okay. All right. I’m sorry about everything.
Me: No worries.
Cop: All right.
Me: Cheers.
I close the door and return to Partner. She says in a deep voice, “NYPD, open up!”. We laugh about how cops are only mildly inconvenient in their normal duties (ringing aggressively at 8:30am, the way a child would ding-dong three times), but when they really want to get you, they’re incredibly inconvenient (like busting down your door at 5am).
Here’s what I’ve heard about the previous owner:
- A mother lived here with her son. The mother owned the apartment. She died. The son didn’t make the maintenance fee payments. He kept sneaking into the apartment: breaking through the front door or climbing up the fire escape to break in. This explains the one-inch diameter deadbolt on the fire escape.
- Last time the management company stopped by, the previous tenants had a big pool table in the middle of the living room. Compared to that previous state, our current state of disheveled (Amazon boxes strewn about) is what the management company describes as “very clean”.
- The previous owner was foreclosed on. The court case took ~3 years.
Since this morning, here’s what I’ve since learned about [correct pronunciation of the mug shot person’s name]:
- She was born in the Bronx, had a hard childhood, suffered from medical and mental health issues, was arrested multiple times for misdemeanors, and then was charged with felony robbery.
- She participated in “Alternative to Incarceration” court with the Fortune Society, which provided her with therapy and an arts program. She had an art exhibition in 2022 and graduated from the program in fall of 2023.
- In February 2024, she shared her success story at the State of the Judiciary program in Albany and has been featured in multiple materials since. She was proud to hold a job, have her own apartment, and was expecting her first child that spring.
- She had an eviction filed against her in March of 2025 for not-my-address and is due in court next week.
- It’s not clear to me why NYPD was looking for her.
I stopped by the bank earlier today. The banker talked for twenty minutes about the cruise she wants to go on. I told her the story of my morning, being awaken by NYPD. She began singing the Taylor Swift Song:
“Welcome to New York.”
Julian Wise 