When Michelle moved in, she refused to follow one simple rule: bring your key. Instead, she pounded on my window at all hours, demanding to be let in. After countless sleepless nights, the other tenants and I came up with a plan to give her a taste of her own medicine.
I’ve always been a stickler for rules. Call me boring, but there’s something comforting about knowing where you stand. That’s why I loved living in our little apartment block on Maple Street.
A woman and her dog | Source: Midjourney
We had one golden rule: after 8 p.m., you always carry your key. Simple, right? Well, it was until Hurricane Michelle blew into our lives.
The day Michelle moved in, I should’ve known trouble was brewing. I was collecting my mail when she strutted up the path, wild red hair flying, and enormous sunglasses perched on her nose despite the cloudy day.
“Hey, new neighbors!” she called out, voice loud enough to wake the dead. “I’m Michelle! Who’s gonna help me with these boxes?”
A woman waving | Source: Midjourney
I exchanged glances with Matt from 2B. He shrugged, and we both headed out to lend a hand. As we lugged boxes up the stairs, Michelle chattered away.
“This place is so cute! It’s like, totally retro. I can’t wait to spice things up around here!” She winked at Matt, who nearly dropped a box labeled “PARTY SUPPLIES.”
“Yeah, well,” I puffed, struggling with what felt like a crate of bricks, “we like it quiet around here. Especially after 8.”
Michelle laughed, a sound like tinkling glass.
A laughing woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh honey, the night’s just getting started at 8!” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You’ll see, I’ll breathe some life into this place.”
I should’ve taken that as the warning it was.
For the first week, things were okay. Sure, Michelle’s music was a bit loud, and yeah, she had a habit of clattering up and down the stairs at all hours. But it wasn’t until the second Friday night that the real trouble started.
A woman in her home | Source: Midjourney
It was just past midnight when the first thump-thump-thump echoed through my apartment. My dog, Biscuit, lifted his head with a whine. I tried to ignore it, burying my face in my pillow. But then came the buzzing. It was incessant, like an angry hornet.
Groaning, I stumbled to the intercom. “Hello?”
“Heeeeey!” Michelle’s voice, slightly slurred, crackled through the speaker. “It’s me! I forgot my key. Can you let me in?”
An intercom entry phone | Source: Pexels
I sighed, pressing the button to unlock the main door. My apartment was on the ground level so I opened my door to remind her about the key rule.
“Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver!” Michelle gushed, her breath reeking of tequila. “I was gonna be stuck out there all night!”
“Michelle,” I started, trying to keep my voice level, “remember the rule about always carrying your key after 8?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Pffft, rules are made to be broken, right? Besides, you’re right here! It’s no problem for you to let me in.”
A laughing woman | Source: Midjourney
“Well, actually…”
But there was no point in saying anything more. Michelle had already clattered up the stairs and disappeared, leaving me standing in the foyer, fuming.
I wish I could say that was a one-time thing. But over the next few weeks, it became a nightly occurrence.
Sometimes she’d bang on windows, other times she’d ring every buzzer in the building until someone let her in.
A woman in front of a staircase | Source: Pexels
It didn’t matter if it was 10 p.m. or 3 a.m. — Michelle seemed to operate in her own time zone.
One particularly frustrating night, I was jolted awake by a rhythmic tapping on my bedroom window. Groaning, I glanced at my alarm clock: 2:37 a.m.
“Adrienne! Adrieeeeenne! Wake up, sleepyhead!”
That was the last straw for Biscuit, who ran over to the window and started yapping. I stumbled out of bed. Pulling back the curtain, I was met with Michelle’s grinning face, illuminated by the streetlight.
A woman at a window | Source: Pexels
“Michelle!” I hissed, sliding the window open. “What are you doing?”
She giggled, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves. “I forgot my key, Addy. Be a pal and buzz me in? I’ve been tapping at your window for ages already.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Michelle, this has got to stop. You can’t keep doing this. What if I hadn’t been home?”
She shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the whole situation. “Then I would’ve buzzed Matt. Or Tiffany. Someone’s always home, right?”
A woman talking to someone | Source: Midjourney
The whole building was at its wit’s end. One day, Tiffany from 3A cornered me in the laundry room, dark circles under her eyes.
“Adrienne, we’ve got to do something about Michelle. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks!”
I nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion myself. “I know, Tiff. I’ve tried talking to her, but she just laughs it off.”
A woman in a laundry room | Source: Pexels
Matt joined us, his usually neat hair a mess. “I called the landlord,” he said, voice low. “Guess what? Michelle’s his niece. He said, and I quote, ‘She’s just having a bit of fun. You all need to lighten up.’”
“Lighten up?” Tiffany hissed. “I’ll show him ‘lighten up’ when I fall asleep at work and get fired!”
That’s when Riley from 4C spoke up. I hadn’t even noticed her lurking by the dryers.
“You know,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye, “if Michelle won’t listen to reason, maybe we need to speak her language.”
A woman in a laundry room | Source: Pexels
We all leaned in closer as Riley outlined her plan. It was petty, sure. Childish, even. But after weeks of sleepless nights and Michelle’s careless laughter ringing in our ears, it felt like sweet justice.
The next night, we put our plan into action.
Michelle stumbled home around 1 a.m., and as usual, she started banging on windows and buzzing apartments. Someone let her in, as usual, and I listened as she breezed upstairs.
We struck an hour later.
A woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
I went outside and kept buzzing her apartment for a full ten minutes. Eventually, her voice crackled over the speaker.
“Who is this, and what the hell is wrong with you?”
“Hey, Michelle! It’s me, Adrienne. I took Biscuit out and forgot my key. Be a pal and buzz me in?”
“Are you serious? It’s 1 a.m.!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, but I always do it for you, so what’s the problem?”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
I heard her mutter something, but she let me in. I quickly texted Tiffany and rushed upstairs for the next part. I arrived at Michelle’s floor just as a series of sharp knocks echoed down the hall.
“Michelle? Michelle? Are you home?” Tiffany called out as she knocked on the door.
“Tiff? What are you doing?” Michelle groaned.
“Oh, I just wanted to check if somebody had let you in. Good night!”
A woman knocking on a door | Source: Pexels
I leaned against the wall, stifling my giggles. But we weren’t done. Over the next few days, we kept up our campaign. If Michelle forgot her key, we made sure she couldn’t sleep. It was petty, yes, but it felt so good.
By day five, Michelle was a wreck. Her hair was a tangled mess, her designer clothes rumpled, and dark circles ringed her bloodshot eyes. As she trudged up the stairs, I almost felt bad. Almost.
A tired-looking woman | Source: Pexels
“Please,” she croaked, her voice hoarse from yelling, “can you guys stop this? I get it, okay? Just stop waking me up every night!”
Tiffany, who’d come out to watch the show, couldn’t resist a jab. “Oh, so you do understand how annoying it is. Funny, you didn’t seem to care when you were doing it to us.”
Michelle’s lower lip trembled, and for a moment, I thought she might cry. But then she squared her shoulders. “Fine. I’m sorry, alright? I’ll start bringing my key. Just… please let me sleep.”
A woman glancing to one side | Source: Pexels
We all exchanged glances. It wasn’t a grand apology, but it was something. Slowly, we nodded.
“Okay, Michelle,” I said, trying to keep the triumph out of my voice. “We’ll stop. But remember—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, fishing in her purse. “Always carry my key after 8. I got it.”
The next evening, I tensed as I heard Michelle’s distinctive clatter on the stairs. But to my surprise, there was no banging, no buzzing. Just the soft click of a key in a lock.
Keys in a door | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t help but smile to myself. “Funny,” I murmured, settling back on my couch, “how peace always comes when everyone finally starts playing by the rules.”
Biscuit wagged his tail in agreement, and I scratched behind his ears. Our little apartment block was back to normal — or as normal as it could be with Hurricane Michelle living upstairs. But hey, at least now she had the key to fitting in.
Gracefully aging, Helen Hunt is as beautiful today as she was five decades ago
In the 1990’s, Hunt was a household name with her breakout TV performance in the hit comedy series Mad About You, where she starred opposite Paul Reiser, who later starred in the Netflix series, Stranger Things.
She won four back-to-back Emmy Awards and three Golden Globes for her comedic portrayal of one half of a newlywed couple. She also directed some episodes, including the series finale in 1999.
Speaking with People, Hunt shared about her daughter and Reiser, “… My daughter loves Stranger Things so now when he calls she’s excited. She’s never seen an episode of Mad About You but she’s super psyched about Stranger Things!” Hunt has one daughter, born in 2004, with Matthew Carnahan, her partner of 16 years.
Hunt is also known for playing a storm chaser in the adrenaline-fueled movie Twister (1996), her Academy Award-winning role in 1997’s As Good as it Gets, starring next to Hollywood royalty, Jack Nicholson, and 2000’s Cast Away and What Women Want.
More recently, she plays a journalist in BBC’s World on Fire and has a recurring character on Blindspotting. She’s also loaned her skills as a director to shows like Californication, House of Lies and This is Us.
In 2021, she revealed she was working on a Twister reboot with a diverse cast of storm chasers “from HBCU [historically Black college and university],” but the story was rejected.
“I tried to get it made,” Hunt said in 2021. “I was going to direct it… We could barely get a meeting, and this is in June of 2020 when it was all about diversity. It would have been so cool.”
Universal Pictures is releasing Twisters, without Hunt, in July 2024.
Over the years, Hunt, who’s collected numerous awards and nominations, has been a staple in Hollywood culture with her timeless performances and beauty.
As one of the most recognizable faces in Hollywood–a face that through the years has matured, she’s recently been the topic of many conversations.
With a career spanning more than four decades, it’s common, and expected, that there would be natural physical changes but, as a celebrity, Hunt is not immune from unfiltered opinions coming from the public.
Speculation that she had plastic surgery started after an accident in 2019, where the SUV she was a passenger, was t-boned by another car, causing it to rollover. She was briefly hospitalized but fully recovered, and within one week, she was back to work filming the limited series reboot of Mad About You.
Speaking with People about reprising her role, Hunt said, “It was a very loving piece of work. We loved it. It would be fun to work on something that’s really about love. We’ll be older though — I hope people are prepared for that. I’m not prepared for it!”
Shortly after, Radar Online, posted an article suggesting the star too much plastic surgery. In the story, she’s referred to as “ageless,” followed by “mannequin-like” and “…her expression more static than usual.”
Fans however were quick to defend her. One wrote, “I’m not an expert on spotting facelifts and that but to me Helen Hunt today still looks like Helen Hunt from Mad About You, just older. Which is what happens when 3 decades pass, people get older.” Another wrote, “I think we are so used to seeing women who have puffed up their lips and lifted both eyes and forehead, that a woman who is aging normally looks odd to us.”
Tight-lipped about the rumours that she’s had a nip and tuck to smooth the wrinkles on her face, it’s possible that Hunt benefits from a makeup artist, who can achieve the same results with some magical strokes of their brush.
In fact, there are many Hollywood beauty secrets that keep celebrities looking ageless. Pairing a healthy diet and exercise with pricey non-surgical spa treatments have proven results!
Hunt is very active and isn’t shy about showing off her fit physique. In an interview, she explained “As a general rule, I tend to move. I don’t go to a gym ever. I don’t diet ever. I used to diet, but sometime after the eighties, it made me miserable, but I do like to walk, run, and I do like to surf when I can just to warm it up, and I do enjoy doing yoga when I can get there.”
As we all know, being a woman in Hollywood can be quite a challenge.
In a 2019 interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Hunt discussed how she has experienced being objectified throughout her career and how she hopes to help create a more inclusive.
“What are the great movies for younger women where they’re the protagonist [being] made now? You know what I mean? The whole thing — there’s no equal rights amendment. We’re fucked,” Hunt told Huffington Post in 2015.
Over the years, Hunt has been involved in various advocacy and philanthropic efforts to support women’s rights and empowerment – speaking up against objectification of women.
”I certainly drive around and I’m tired of the billboard where she’s barely in her underwear and they’re selling, you know, a watch or something,” Hunt said.
”I’m over it, to be honest.”
Facing judgements from the public can’t be easy, especially for celebrities who are out there doing their jobs, which is entertaining us.
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