Swiss Home Invasion

The doorbell starts ringing and I open my eyes. I assume it's Travis after picking up his mom from the airport, but it's way too dark outside for that. I look at my watch and can't decide if the hands are showing 2:30 or 6:10. I decide it looks more like 2:30. I stumble out of bed to the door and look out the peephole. I don't have my glasses on, so I see a figure. I guess it could be Warren come back from DnD late. So I open the door. Nope, don't know this guy. He starts yelling in Swiss German and tries to force his way past me. Tyler telling me that the first 3 minutes of being awake is equivalent to being drunk came to my mind. I manage to push the guy back out into the hall and shut the door. But there is no way to lock it. Still in a daze, I run to Travis' room and try to wake him. He is in a worse daze than me, so I pull the covers off and he seems to get the point.

'There's some crazy dude trying to get in our house.' and I quickly leave to find the key. After a minute of frantic searching I get it and lock the front door. Warren has begun stumbling out of bed as well and comes to see what is up. I'll leave the next part of the story to Warren, who wrote about it last night;

I'm lying in bed, just my boxers cover my magnificent full glory. Suddenly the door bell rings. I stir awake, whoa did I just dream a doorbell vividly? I ignore it, I go back to sleep. Silence for a time. The door bell rings again. Again... again. Then theres yelling, its in German I can't make out whats said. I'm still in a daze, Its all just background noise to me.

Devon leaps into the room in his boxers, his glory is not as good as mine. "Holy Shit! Theres some guy trying to break into our place!"
"What... where"
"Hes right outside..."
"Wha --?"

I'm up, I look out, its bright but I see nothing. Theres no one there. I turn to walk away, Devon takes a look.

"He's back!"

Suddenly there is this pounding on the door. The stacatto of the strangers fists on the door and his alien yelling. I thought the door would come down.

"Dude, I opened the door and he tried to force his way in, I pushed him out. Then for like five minutes I was looking for the key."

"If he had just tried the door he would have gotten in."

The assault on the door continued for what seemed forever. Then it stops for a minute. I look out again and see some guy, probably in his late twenties, staring around the hallway.

"I hope he doesn't take our stuff"

"Hes got to be drunk or high. He's high, he's not drunk."

"Let us in! Its the Swiss TV and Radio guys!", I joked.

The bashing continues, the guy is a big guy, so I go and grab some kitchen knives and distribute them among my roommates, just a preparation if the door comes down. I peek a look out again, the man is walking down the stairs and away from our flat.

"He said he wanted water, yeah right."

The hallway light kept turning on and off, each time it turned on we wondered once more if it was the landlord or the stranger. Devon and Travis were busy searching the phone books for the landlords number, or the police. We heard the sounds of smashing outside, we went to the windows were we could see. All I could make out was the shadow of a figure kicking at the steel gate before our home, and the resulting ringing as the gate became nonfunctional.

He came back into the building. Devon kept getting busy signals... suddenly he got through, but not to the landlord or the police. He had accidentally called a friend from Calgary from the phone's memory.

".. no I've got to go call the police. I've got to hang up now..."

The yelling continued. Then stopped. We listened to him talking to himself, before he disappeared outside again. We could see him on the street from Devon's room. He had our soccer ball and was kicking it along Mellingerstrasse. Finally we got through to the Landlord. Unfortunately the landlord was asleep and wouldn't wake up through this whole stupid event, only the landlady was available. So we put on pants. The glory is gone. If our poor landlady opened her door she'd be considerably worse off than we three would be (especially because we thought the landlord wasn't home). Devon is barely able to talk to her on the phone, Devon's swiss german isn't fantastic, and our landlady's english isn't superb either. Speaking Swiss german isn't really a language, its a heimlich manuever.

Time passes and our Landlady comes to our flat. From what we can determine she knew the kid. It was her nephew, the son of a Doctor. She said "What can you do with a kid like that?". We're able to tell her that he left and met up with an unknown friend and had walked away, down Mellingerstrasse.

Outside we go to check on our shoes and to retrieve the ball. I didn't bother to put shoes on, so I take the ball and return home, locking the flat door and starting this blog post. Shortly Devon and Travis arrive. They tell me the landlady knew where he lived and they walked there to determine what had happened. Apparently he was still banging on the door of another top floor flat in a similar building. He got in. It turned out that this wasn't the landlady's nephew, but a friend of her son -- or something. Anyway, everyone is safe, and our stuff seems to be in okay working order.

What an asshole.

The rest of my sleep was sporatic, and coupled with the fact that I had to shower in the sink this morning due to the bathroom being freshly painted, I am as tired as shit.