Sunday, January 4, 2009


Remember “Lady in the Water”, that M. Night Shayalmalin movie that came out a few years ago about “narfs” and etc? And the lovely apartment complex that teems with people who all know each other and socialize in grand parties?

I don’t live in one of those. Does anybody? (if so, please share…) There are no floor parties that everyone turns out for, no Friday night pinochle parties in the clubhouse. My knowledge of neighbors is limited to the bass of the radio from 112 (me = 111, so shared wall). Mostly her tastes are good…except when she chooses to exercise it after midnight. And how do I know they are female, and that there are two of them? I refer back to an exciting incident last October/November wherein I witnessed them being driven out of their apartment by copious amounts of smoke. After ascertaining that we were in no danger, I and my roomies enjoyed the diversion of the fire dept paying us a visit Friday afternoon, courtesy of a forgotten pizza box left in the oven.

As the concerned neighbor (you know it!!) I went to lend my help as well as an ear to all things interesting, where I learned 2 very important things besides the nitty gritty of the situation.

They were exciting, colorful people.

I did not want them as roommates. Ever. In fact, I would be perhaps more comfortable were they a few more numbers down.

On the other side, the occupants still remain a mystery. I am told by my roomies that there are 2 Hispanic girls that live there. But for the past month, I have heard male voices (only), cupboard doors slamming at 1am in the kitchen, and hear male voices (only) when I pass by. But I have never seen one.

That brings me to another point. I am beginning to form the conclusion that there ARE no males at these apartments. Or if there are, I have not seen them. They are hiding. And when you add that to the rare sightings of any females (maybe one on any given day) you have the ghost complex…full of sounds and smells and potted vegetable gardens in the walkways, washers and dryers full of clothes when you need to use them and bicycles absent and then back (in *your* spot) when you weren’t looking.

Community would be nice. Knowing the name of someone besides the elderly lady on the second floor would be great. I would especially like to meet whoever lives directly above. 211. The owners of the (apt)dog. (to be explained a tad later) I just want a *little* discussion. Something along the lines of “you make the dog be quiet…or I’LL make the dog be quiet. Your choice.”

And then we can go back to being strangers.

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