Glass Breaking and Screaming:
Years ago I lived in a basement apartment with my BF at the time. We had neighbors directly above us who were pretty loud on weekends, especially pay day weekends. One night we heard them yelling and hollering as average, but this had a tinge of anger and fear in it. I could not understand any of the words, but called 911. I was pacing back and forth around my apartment, and suddenly heard a CRASH, glass breaking. The cops had shown up by then, and when the knock was at the neighbor's front door, I heard footsteps scattering to their bedroom. (our apartments were laid out exactly the same, my bedroom below theirs, kitchen below, etc). So I flipped my bedroom lights a few times to signal the cops and pointed directly above me. The cops figured it out.
At the same time I'm all super stressed and freaked out, I wanted to help the neighbor getting the crap beat out of her (I'd been in a similar situation; but I was so irrational here), I was pacing, restless, getting wound up. Suddenly after the cops had figured out where the people were hiding, I heard a KA-BAM, breaking the neighbor's front door in. Both neighbors were arrested, due to equal violence, both being intoxicated, and just...dumb. If you're getting beat up, why would you both go hide in the bedroom?
Same night, officer came down and took my statement. Later found out from the landlord that the apartment was TRASHED and needed new everything. The only good part - I had silence above me for over a month.
Same Building, Different Idiot
One day I get home from work. I park my bicycle outside my front window. (I'm in a basement apartment, so my eyes are literally level with the dirt outside. I could see my bike from me sitting on my couch.) As I go in the front door, there's a guy behind me coming in, and he doesn't look like anyone who lives in this building. I say hi, he ignores me and keeps walking upstairs. Out of nosyness, I stick my head out my front door. I hear steps, knob turn, steps, knob turn, steps...he's finding unlocked doors..or trying to. I call the cops, and report this. They ask me, "Well just cuz he doesn't look like someone doesn't mean he's not related, why are you calling?" I say again: "He's going door to door trying door to break in. I'm hearing this, holding my cordless phone in the hallway HEARING ALL OF IT".
So they say, sure, be there, and Mr.Turner walks down the stairs, and sees my bike, parked in front of my window. Looking around, he decides to get on my bike and start slowly pedaling away. I'm still on the cordless phone with dispatcher, walking behind Mr. Turner (literally) and yelling at him GET OFF MY BIKE and the cops telling me to not hit him..Of course, I'm not..he's bigger...BUT GET OFF MY BIKE. Also I'm yelling THIEF THIEF HE'S STEALING MY BIKE. (no violence, figured the shame factor might work)
Neighbor in different wing but basement hears "bike" and runs outside to tackle Mr. Turner (as his own bike had been stolen recently) and gets him off the bike. Cop car pulls up and takes Mr. Turner (found to be drunk) to the Graybar Hotel. Cop takes my statement and looks at me funny.
I guess I was dumb. Oh well, I have a story now!