Police activity

Not sure what the fuck was up early this morning. I woke up at 3 a.m. to present a gift the the porcelain God, and was greeted by an apartment that was lit up so brightly, I thought a nuclear bomb had gone off outside. As I emptied my bladder while trying to shield my eyes from the light show, the buzz of helicopters filled the skies outside. I flushed and peeked out the bathroom window. There was a police chopper circling around the small apartment building in which I reside. Immediately after leaving the bathroom, I heard the classic "police officer knock" coming from a neighboring apartment. You know the one...the signature THUD, THUD, THUD that is often heard in movies.

Feeling frightened and uncertain, I reluctantly opened the front door and peeked my head out. The courtyard was lit up like Dodger stadium at night, and had been taken over by no less than 12 of L.A.'s finest. They were semi-forcefully questioning one of my neighbors in #4 about who knows what. An officer approached me, his hand on his holster, and politely asked how I was doing. I responded with "Uhhh...fine...is everything alright out here?" He asked me if I knew the apartment manager that lived upstairs in #9. I replied "Uhhh...the manager, who is the owner of the building, doesn't live here. He lives in Marina Del Rey." "Does the manager have any contact with the tenants in #9?", I was asked. "Outside of normal tenant/landlord contact...not that I'm aware of", I replied. "I'll call the manager/owner, if you like", I said.

As I said that, I glanced to the right, and saw my neighbor being handcuffed. I overheard the familiar mantra "You have the right to remain silent..." Just as he was being read his rights, the apartment manager, who was obviously sleeping, answered my phone call. "Uhhh...this is Omar in Kester #3...the police are here, and I think they wanna speak to you." I handed the phone to an officer, who walked to the quiet end of our courtyard as she spoke to my landlord. Just as two officers began to escort the handcuffed gentleman away, the officer with my phone shouted, "hey...that guy's not the manager...the manager doesn't live here...let that guy go." Confused, one of the escorting officers took the phone from the female officer and began to question my landlord. "What is your name? How do you spell that? Is that with or without a 'u'? Does that have two o's? What's your age? What's your address? What's your ethnicity? Outside of the typical tenant/landlord relationship, do you have any contact with the tenants in #9? My name is (insert officer name here). My badge number is (insert number here). The case number? That would be (insert case number here). Yes...yes...yes of course. Oh, absolutely...I understand. Sure. Yes...please contact us with any information. Thanks so much, and sorry for the late night wake up call. Have a good night."

My phone was handed back to me, I was thanked for my help, and the officers exited the building. I glanced to my right and saw the previously handcuffed gentleman return to his apartment. He was as pale as ghost, and was clearly in a state of complete disarray. He fumbled to open the door to his apartment, and quietly closed the door as he made his way in.

The whole situation seemed like one huge confusing LAPD sideshow blunder.

--They were looking for the tenants in #9, who they labeled the "managers" of the apartment building, but they were on the verge of arresting one of the tenants in #4, who probably has nothing to do with the tenants in #9. The tenants in #9 have only been there since October 2007, while the tenants in #4 have been in the building for about 7 years (While signing our lease in October, the owner/manager told us that everyone in the building aside from the new tenants in #9 and us had been living there for at least 7 years).
--When I phoned the owner, I initially called his cell phone. He didn't answer. I told the officer, "he didn't answer his cell, let me try his office, which is actually his home." His response..."nah, he won't answer his office at 3 a.m...don't even worry about it. Just go back inside." I called his office/home, and sure enough, he answered after 1 ring. Way to think critically there, officer.
--They were looking for someone in #9, which is upstairs, but not one single officer was upstairs hovering around #9. Most were downstairs by #3, #4,and #5...some were just wandering around the courtyard aimlessly, staring at the chopper above.
--The whole situation reeked of confusion. The officers looked like a large group of foregin tourists in Disneyland trying to find their way to the Indiana Jones ride. Mass confusion...everyone staring at paperwork and cell phones, and walking around in a seemingly aimless fashion.

Who knows what was up. I really shouldn't judge. Perhaps the officers were given bad information. I really don't know. It was just such a strange and confusing scene.

The worst part...I didn't fall back to sleep till after 4 a.m., only to be rudely awoken at 7:45 by my alarm.

UPDATE: My landlord just called me and apologized profusely for any inconvenience. Even though he had nothing to do with anything that happened last night. Such a nice guy. To add to the confusion, he told me that he spoke to the tenant in #9. She was quite ill yesterday, and called the paramedics to pick her up. This just adds another layer of confusion to the situation.