I lived here for about 8 months with my then girlfriend and her roommate.

It was an ok place. Nothing fancy.

However the laundry facility sucked. The option was a very small laundry room at the side of the building. (This was the first building after you cam into the lot after Perkins/La Quinta.)

That's just inconvenient. Larger facilities would have helped, but I started going to the Laundromat over by what used to be Albertsons.

Yes, I was always familiar with a police presence. I was also working security (not for them) but as a regular job and knew most of the cops that ran that area.

That area needed security doors and what not. It was questionable at best. Not to mention the door frames were weak. We had an attempted breakin. Well, the guy did get in the door, he left shortly after I threatened him with my sidearm. I also got stuck with rebuilding the doorframe. Let's just say, it's now steel hidden by wood trim.
Nobody's ever getting in there by force again.

My downstairs neighbor used to beat his wife and threaten her with a shotgun. Also you'd see random people come to the bedroom window and knock once or twice and watch them do the handoff at the sliding glass door below. I called the cops one night after I hear her screaming "Please Don't Kill Me!" over and over. The guy who lived there and two of his friends came up asking if I called the cops! I was able to pull off being just bounced out of bed and groggy enough to not know what was going on. So they left.

The adventures ain't over yet folks!

Finally we have a son, and decide to move.

On moveout day, the last thing we take is the groceries. Mostly the dry box stuff in the cabinets.

(Now before we continue on with where this is going, let me state that the three of us were pretty OCD when it came to cleaning this apartment. So I know it wasn't from us!)

I've got everything off of the top shelf and start to work on the bottom shelf by the fridge. And what sight do my wandering eyes see, but a box of Mac and Cheese waving at me! I knocked the box back and watched a swarm of roaches just going wild behind it, and a hole in the back of the cabinet.

I have no idea where these came from or when, but I decided that was an omen that I'd picked the right time to leave.

But trying to be good renters, me and the little bro got some bug grenades. 12 to be exact and we threw them grenade style in every place possible.

I was hoping one would catch on the water heater and we'd watch the apartment go up in a neat little fireball, movie style, watching in the mirror of our UHaul as we drove away.

Unfortunately I was a responsible person and turned off the waterheater's pilot light.

Long and short, back in my time it was dirty, it sucked, the neighbors were terrible, and the police were everywhere.

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