A couple nights ago, Jason came home from missionary splits and ran into our favorite maintenance guy (Taylor) on our floor. We usually only see Taylor in the common areas, so it was weird that he was up on our floor. There were also a few other maintenance guys down the hallway. Trying to break into the apartment two doors down from us. Taylor gave Jason the whole scoop.
Apparently our floor had really started to stink the last couple days. No one had recently seen the guy that lived two doors down. He lived by himself. And had an alcohol problem. And he was Jamaican and none of his family lived close by. There is a master key to all of our apartments, but not for the dead bolt and this guy had dead bolted his door. The maintenance guys called the police and hospital and someone (the police? I didn't actually see) cut open the apartment door. It was really loud, by the way. Taylor told us they were pretty sure he had died of alcohol poisoning 5 days earlier. Jason looked out our door after the noise stopped and saw the stretcher with the covered dead body on it in the hallway. We saw them load the body onto the ambulence outside our window.
Truth be told, I didn't really see or smell most of it. We keep our apartment well ventilated so I hadn't noticed the smell. Still, it was kind of a weird experience. Almost like you haven't really lived in Chicago until the cops have to come to your building and break down your neighbor's door.
Yikes!
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