OK. Back to the main topic. Sunday night in my new apartment complex. I step off the elevator looking for a sign of life. Nothing. Open the door, turn the corner and right before my wandering eyes I see a wobbling, zig-zagging blur of an inebriated gal coming towards me.

I enter our place,greet Jessica, we chat about some pics we put on the fridge and I mention the drunk girl in the hallway. Suddenly, I hear something that sounds like dribbling. Is someone really dribbling a basketball in the hall? So I peek out the peep-hole. Drunk girl is banging her head against the door across the way, sprawled out and swinging her plastic bag filled with mysterious contents back and forth. Hmmm.

The pounding continues. Does she live there?

She disappears.

I step out into the hallway and see a pair of flip flops. Must be drunk girl's. I look to my right and see chicken wings, splattered sauce, a wallet, some ginger, veggies ... ya know. Ah, the contents in the bag. But where's drunk girl?

I proceed down the hallway, stepping over the mess of food and identification documents. Turn the corner and see more chicken wings. Bones. More splattered sauce. But where's drunk girl? Oh ... I see her feet. She's sprawled out in yet another doorway with a sauce ring around her mouth.

Me: Are you OK?

Drunk Girl: Mmm ... I'm fine.

Me: Do you live here?

DG: Ya. I live on this floor.

Me: Oh, what number?

DG: I live on the second floor.

Me: Oh, so you're not on this floor.

DG: I'm waiting for them to pick me up.

Me: Who?

DG: My boyfriend and his friends. I'm fine.

I walk away in hopes that this situation will solve itself. She then somehow manages to get on the elevator.

An hour later, she's back. More pounding on other doors. This time, two cop cars are outside.

For some reason, this all feels a little too familiar. I feel like I'm back in the college dorms again. Ah -- bittersweet feeling.

She's back. Banging her head against the door across the way again. This time she has, well, peed her pants.

Time to stop blogging and get this girl some help. Eh?

(Welcome to my new home. Something tells me this is only the beginning.)