This is the sort of story that can cause any New Yorker agita. Imagine: you take pity on a mother and daughter who are (temporarily) without a home. You invite them to stay with you in your classy Fifth Avenue co-op for a (limited) time. You are so kind and so good.
They don’t leave. It’s been a year and they won’t leave.
You go to court, you get orders to get them out, you get anxiety, you get to lock yourself in your bedroom while the squatters make hay–or something–out of the rest of your apartment. Your co-op board is threatening to kick you out for violating all sorts of co-op laws (and believe me, there are all sorts of co-op laws you can violate).
AND YOU CAN’T GET THEM OUT.
Your very own Congressional representative starts writing letters on your behalf. But still they remain. (And one of them is a shoplifter. Forgot to tell you that.)
I don’t know if the expression “this is a nightmare,” exists in other dialects outside New York. If it doesn’t, all you who live somewhere other than New York can gloat at this story, but if you live within the linguistic territory encompassed by my city, maybe you shouldn’t read it. Because you’ll have blood pressure problems and who knows what else?
Julianne Michelle Di Palma and her mother, Joycelyn Engle Di Palma, who say Melissa Berkelhammer and her mom refused to hit the road.