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It’s been a four-police-car-day at my new apartment building. This morning it sounded like the people in the apartment above me were hurling furniture, and one another, across the room. At some point, two police cars pulled up in front of the building. The burly guy upstairs—with the word “SEMPER” in a six-inch tattoo down the back of his left calf and a “FIDELIS” tattoo down the back of his right calf—went outside and spoke to the police. Together they all went upstairs where the stomping and throwing continued, even after the police left.

I thought I was moving into a chi-chi, upscale building, but so far all I’ve seen is its dark and seamy underside.

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