"Can I help you?" "Puh-leesh" It takes several repetitions for me to realize he's saying "Police." As far as I can tell, this is the only English the guy knows. He says it enough times and no other words, so it seems a natural response. I close the door, pressing the house phone for a moment and scrambling for my computer to call the doorman downstairs, because he doesn't seem to be in any actual physical distress and I still don't know who he is. As I look it up, the phone rings again, and I explain to the doorman that there's someone banging on my door, who I don't know and he's asking for the police. From the other side of the door, suddenly I hear: "Hey buddy, you don't need to do that..." I open the door again, and we have an extremely repetitive conversation wherein it is firmly established that he is unable to tell me his name, what apartment he's supposed to be in besides mine, and Bobby. Yeah, so it appears he's staying with Bobby, and I explain that there is no one here named Bobby, that Bobby doesn't own this apartment, and maybe he should be on a different floor. Several times, when asked who he is, I get the response, "C'mon man, it's me." No...I'm me. You're you. But that still doesn't help me figure out who the hell you are. Apparently, he seriously thinks I'm a buddy of his who's locked him out and is just messing with him. Finally, he begins insisting that I should let him "or else there's going to be a scen-ah-rio." Not wishing to correct his pronunciation, I explain that there is already a scen-ah-rio, and that someone's coming to help him. Finally, I close the door in his face as soon as he gets his fingers out of the doorjamb. I return to bed and just close my eyes as I hear the doorman remonstrating with him. And then the doorbell rings. I open the door--still chained--and find the doorman, who asks: "Is this your guest?" Nope, I've never seen him before 5 minutes ago. "So you don't know him?" Uh, no. As I close the door, I hear, "See? You don't live here, guy?" Several hours later, I'm walking into the lobby when the guy at the front desk starts laughing and says he has something for me.

Dear NBS: I justed wanted to apologize for last night. All I can say is that it was just "one of those nights" and that it wont happen again. Thanks for your patience. Sincerely, XXXXXX 11C

He lives downstairs from me! Who makes that just one of those nights??