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05.30 am. Knock knock, who’s there? Oh, just a crazy drunkard trying to tear my door down.

This morning I had another run in with the police. Yeah, that’s right.

It was 05.30 when I woke up to a buzzing noise. Someone was ringing the intercom to my building, not my door bell but someone else’s, and they were doing it for so long that I woke up twenty minutes before my own alarm was meant to ring. Just great.

I started falling back sleep when I realised whoever had been harassing my neighbours now was inside the building and I could hear shouting and banging throughout my block of flats. I became scared as the aggravated noises came closer and closer.

Approximately fifteen minutes of crashing later, the banging had reached my flat. Someone was smashing their fists against on my door so aggressively that I thought they were going to tear it down.

By this point I had gotten my phone out and sitting on the floor next to my bed I with shaky hands dialled 999, the UK emergency number (different to Sweden’s 112 I learned the other week). I have never called an emergency number before and with someone screaming so angrily one thin wall away from me, I was panicking ever so slightly.

What didn’t make matters any better was that my housemate, just woken up and still in sleep mode, walked over with key in hand to open the door. My girlfriend stopped him last minute and he soon realised it wasn’t a case of one of us being locked out or something equally harmless.

The woman on the other side of the phone line kept asking me if I was there and I whispered to her what was going on. At the same time my neighbours started talking to the person outside through the safety of their door.

It turned out that it was a very drunk lady who initially had been desperate to get hold of someone and who now, having now stopped shouting and banging, was begging to be let into anyone’s house at ten to six on a Monday morning. My neighbours refused.

Eventually the crying woman left and I did feel a little bit sorry for her when minutes later the intercom buzzed again. The police this time.

I don’t know that they found this very angry woman but I hope that they did and that they got her a warm coat and something more comforting to eat than the Hula Hoops she left on the floor outside my flat.

I also hope that tomorrow morning at 05.30 both me, and her, will be sound asleep.

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