Here it is ... the moment you've been waiting for ... THE REST OF THE STORY.
Let's see! When I left off, I had just discovered that my neighbor had been BREAKING INTO MY APARTMENT to use my phone to call phone sex lines. (Keep in mind, this was back before the days of internet porn. Porn was not as easily available then as it is today. Phone sex lines were totally a thing.)
I called a locksmith. I called the police. I called the landlord.
The locksmith and the cops got there at about the same time, and let me tell you, that was a party right there. The locksmith started work on replacing the lock that Corey had repeatedly forced open (and I had him replace all the other locks while he was there), and the cops went to talk to Corey.
Who denied everything. Of course.
The cops came to talk to ME, and I gave them the whole story, and copies of the phone bill, and said that I wanted them press as many charges as possible. The cops didn't even bother to dust for prints, which is typical of the cops in this town, who don't actually solve CRIMES so much as they sit around and discuss the chances of their favorite team making it to the playoffs, but they did say that charges would be filed. They were also happy to share stories of Corey's past run-ins with the law, which, Jesus Christ, wasn't the damn landlord SCREENING these tenants? (Answer: No.)
And then the locksmith, who was still there, and the cops started discussing various break-and-enters they had been involved with, and hoo boy was THAT interesting. And disgusting. Turns out that, back in those pre-internet days, at least, it was NOT UNCOMMON for people to go into other people's homes to call phone sex lines. And do OTHER STUFF while they were in the homes, which, EWWWWW, when the locksmith got to the part where he was advising me to throw out any open containers of MILK in the FRIDGE, that was when I think I stuck my fingers in my ears and started singing LA LA LAAAAAA because I would rather live in a world where I don't know that stuff, thankyouverymuch.
In the end, the locks got changed, Corey got kicked out of the building (although it took a few days for the landlord to get the proper paperwork in order to forcibly evict him) and charged with a couple of crimes (although I can't remember what, exactly - it was a long time ago), Corey threatened to KILL ME to my FACE before he moved out, to which I had some RATHER HARSH WORDS (oh you do not want to THREATEN me you F*CKWAD I WILL BURY YOU), his FRIENDS came to ask me to drop the charges because Corey was "going through a hard time" and I LAUGHED in their FACES, and it was all very entertaining.
Yeah, it was pretty scary, too.
But that was a long time ago! And now I live in a house! With good locks! Which I had changed right before I moved in because WHO KNOWS who has keys to ANY given lock (Let that be a lesson to all my kind readers!) and the only locks I trust now are the ones I see the locksmith install. (There actually wasn't anything faulty, per se, with the lock on the hallway door; it was just flimsy and was easily popped off the doorframe.) And while my neighbors here are CRAZY, some of them, at least they aren't breaking in to my place to use my phone. BECAUSE I HAVE MOTHER-F*CKING DEADBOLTS YOU'RE DAMN STRAIGHT. Ha.
God bless good locks and God damn sh*tty neighbors.