Those of you who have known us for a while will remember back in State College when some drunk moron from Penn State (our mutual friends’ excuses: “He’s actually a really a nice guy!”) decided at 5am one Monday morning to tear our gas grill from the metal pipe it was chained to and try, unsuccessfully to throw it through the plate-glass window of our patio door. One foot chase later and he was hiding in the bushes like the little pussy he is, begging for me not to hurt him. And that is when the cops showed up and took him in. It turns out he also caused a lot of damage to the elementary school behind our apartment building, too.

The funny this is, when I chased him down and demanded to know why he was trying to throw our grill through our patio door, his reason was, and I quote: “I thought I was at someone else’s place.”

As if that somehow justifies his actions.

I guess he thought that he was two apartment complexes down the street, and was trying to throw a grill through some girl’s patio door (although this doesn’t explain why he was thrashing the school behind us in the first place).

Well, flash-forward a couple of years, and it seems that we have, once again, been the victims of misplaced vandalism.

Yesterday, after having brunch with friends downtown, we returned home to find the ‘false door’ to our apartment vandalized with what appeared to be some threatening language. “Yanis est mort”, “Nik ta mere”, “Nik milena”, etc., etc.

It turns out that some young hooligan came into our building and thought he was vandalizing the door of our downstairs neighbors. At some point, realizing his mistake, he did eventually manage to get his intended target after thoroughly marking up our door.

By the time we arrived home, he had alread been caught by our downstair neighbor, but they didn’t know that he had also damaged our door, too. And he obviously wasn’t going to volunteer that information. From what I understand, as Erika and I were trying to discern what exactly this stuff was saying, one of his buddies came up with some cleaner with the intent of erasing the evidence from our door before anyone noticed.

Erika, on the other hand, was having none of this. Lots of yelling and scolding ensued, our downstairs neighbor comes up and sees our door vandalized, too. Lots of frustration and yelling. The vandal himself gets hauled up to explain himself and, I kid you not, he basically says (in French) “I had the wrong floor.”

No, not “sorry for being a dipshit and vandalizing your door” or “sorry for doing this at all”.

Just “I had the wrong floor.”


Anyhow, our neighbor got the kid’s name. Spoke to his mom. We all went to the police station to file a report (for us, mostly so we don’t have to pay for any damage).

All in all, fun time.