Wouldn’t it be great to choose your own neighbors? Well I know that when you look for a a place you have a great bunch of things to solve. Last time I went through that I almost got a secretary to keep track of all my notes on the flats I had to check. What type of heating, plumping, drainage system it supports? Is there a park lot available? How many flats use the basement, how frequently they clean it, how much is the rent, does the landroad needs money in advance…? You get to know all these things about the flat but you never get to know what kind of people live next to you. Well of course your landloard can assure you how nice, friendly, quite people they are and you can tell by his smile that he is not pretending much. So you sign the agreement and there you are, moving to this place you have been looking for so long. Well sort of…because the more you stay the more you realise that you didn’t really cheched the house before moving in. But you can cope.
The day comes that you meet the rest of the guys in the block. You just wish this happens before you get into this embarassement moment that they hear you first.
Mr B usually takes the stairs. He likes to stretch his legs even though he is at his 70ish. He seems a nice guy and not into gossipping (i hate that!). The old lady from the 5th floor has this strange look whenever I bumped on her. To be honest I would have the exact same look if the first time I met myself I was full with make-up and mini skirts.They are not many of them, that makes our relationship more like a big family or something. Or I suppose it should have been this way. But how can I really come close to people that behave strange? The other day I went down the basement and suddently this guy from 1st floor came over like looking for the thief or something. Soon I realized that he was looking for a chance to meet me. He asked me if I heard a loud noise, I said no, wondering what the hell he was talking about. When he started saying that “it must have been the wine I had” I tried to look preoccupied with what I was doing..but then he goes “you are the one that leaves the car lights on almost every night right?”…OMG! I didn’t know what was worse; having to do with non-existent noises or with the fact that the guy knows the time I come home and my bad habbits…Scary. What is even scarier is the fact I asked him to come home one day. What was I thinking??!!?