The Man Yelling "Tiffany"

It’s 12 AM. Who on earth is banging so loudly on the front door to the apartment? I came out of my room to take my laundry from the dryer back into my room. Bang, Bang, Bang… I quickly scuttle back into my room and avoid looking at the dark sliver of window that might allow someone outside the front door to see me. One of my monthly recurring thoughts is that if I can see them, they can see me. Well even if I couldn’t see who was outside the door, the fact that I can see a piece of the window means that perhaps they could have caught a glimpse of me. I am quite a quiet person. I keep to myself and try not to get into trouble. Thus, I decided to hide the fact that I could hear the person banging on the door, by trying not to be seen through that window sliver.

The banging continued. My first thought was that maybe that person had left their keys and needed to get back in. I had done that a few days ago and was able to ask someone to let me in. So, I felt bad that I could hear them banging and had decided to not help them. The banging continued and even seemed to be growing louder, fiercer. As soon as the guilt started to get at me, the person banging walked over to the side of the apartment and began yelling up into the windows, “TIFFANY, TIFFANY, TIFFANY.” That was all they yelled. From their voice I guessed the person was a big young black man. At this point I was ready to go to sleep and hoped that the man would leave. Although, I had no proof this person didn’t need help to be let in or wasn’t calling their roommate/girlfriend to let them in, I felt that he was too mysterious to deal with safely.

The man did not leave. He banged on the front door. Walked to the side yelled “TIFFANY” repeatedly. Returned to the front door, then walked to the back door and banged on it. He repeated this cycle at least five times before I happened to lose count and fall asleep. The next morning I didn’t want to wake up and I could tell it was because of the man banging on the doors and yelling “Tiffany”.

As I am writing this story. I keep thinking about all the things that could have been or happened. I think to myself trying to justify not helping the man. And I think about how I didn’t know who he was and how I could be risking my life letting him in. I also wonder about what happened to him. Did he finally get ahold of Tiffany? My mind wanders into creepy what if territory. What if he climbed along the side of the apartment and broke into her room and murdered her? Well I haven’t heard of any break ins at this apartment or murders. I don’t think Tiffany, if she did live in this apartment, has been affected by this man at all. If she was in this apartment, maybe she was embarrassed. If she isn’t in this apartment, I can only think two possibilities: the man was delusional (she doesn’t exist) or the man was tricked.

I really shouldn’t give this more thought since he hasn’t returned in the last few days. But the way he was banging on the doors so hard plagues my memory. It scared me enough to want to call the police, but I ended up hoping someone else would do it.

Still thinking about it, interestingly his voice didn’t sound angry and thus you would think it would sound pleading. If the man wasn’t angry at a woman, then maybe he was pleading for her to let him back into her life or something like that. His voice sounded like he simply wanted Tiffany’s attention. Ahhhh… Like I said, I need to stop thinking so much about this.