I hate to be all gossipy and stuff, but I cannot resist posting this note that is taped to the door on the guy who lives in the apartment next to mine.
If I didn’t buzz you in via the front entrance you will not get in this door. I don’t care how loud or long you know you will not get in.
Whoa! So now I suppose you are wondering (or you should be wondering, at least) what would prompt him to post such a note?
First, some background (full of speculation, of course) about this guy. He is probably in his late-30s or somewhere in his 40s. He is about 5’7″ and has reddish hair. I’m 99% sure that he is gay. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything but baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. I have no idea if he works or anything like that. All I know is that there have been many times when I have seen extremely attractive twink-type guys coming out of his apartment — which never ceases to shock me.
Then last weekend in addition to the twinky boys, he also had lots of visitors who were older, uglier guys. They were the kind of guys (who, again I am assuming are gay) who have that Tom Seleck-type of sleazy faux-suave look. The striking feature that I have projected onto the collective of them is a blond (possibly) dyed moustache — if that gives you any idea.
These two types of guys started coming in together. And often times they would wait in the back of the apartment until someone would come in and then they would sorta sneak in with someone who lived in the apartment. Or sometimes the guy would go out and let them in. It was all very sketchy.
Also, there have been numerous times when in the middle of the night when someone has knocked at my door only to mistakenly realize that he meant to knock on the door next to mine. There was even a time when someone knocked on my door wanting to use my phone so he could call the guy next door. After the guy didn’t answer the “visitor” left a voicemail to the effect of, “Well, I’m here now but I guess you changed your mind? You aren’t answering your door or your phone.” The guy claimed that my neighbor buzzed him in, but somehow I doubt it.
Considering the fact that I live within four blocks of two sex clubs (Club Seattle and Club Z), I suspect that all this stuff going in with my neighbor is somehow related to sex and/or prostitution and/or drugs. How’s that for speculation?
Now I’m pretty cool with all that stuff, so it’s never fazed me. I always thought back to that Sex and the City episode “Are We Sluts?” when someone in Samantha’s building is held-up at gunpoint because someone left the door open and everyone in the building assumes that Samantha is at fault. I figure if he’s having sex that’s great and it’s never bothered me before.
…Until last week when my bathtub kept backing up.
I must preface this by noting that I am aware of the fact that in a logical universe all of this is unrelated, but nonetheless, I think it’s funny how I assume that it’s related anyway.
So early last week I came home from work one day to find my bathtub filled with about 2 feet of water. I know that when I left in the morning that the tub had drained (I took a shower, so why would there be standing water?), so I was really sorta annoyed at the whole situation. I got my plunger out and that helped a little, so finally I made a trip to get some Draino. That did the trick.
The next morning after I got home from the gym there was water in the tub again — this time less, though. I didn’t have time to plunge or anything, so I quickly showered, utterly disgusted by the fact that I was standing in ishy dirty water. When I got home that evening, there was still water in the tub (though it had gone down a little), so I plunged again. This time reddish/brownish gunk came up (it wasn’t shit, luckily — I smelled to make sure!), so again I went to the store and got Liquid-Plumr. (Yes, I am aware of how dangerous and environmentally unfriendly all that shit is — but I was feeling desperate.) The Liquid-Plumr didn’t really help, so I wrote a note to leave with my landlord so he could look at the problem the next day.
That night I heard all kinds of voices coming from the apartment next door. I may have been delirious from the Liquid-Plumr fumes, but I could’ve sworn that there was a correlation between the talking next door and the water in the tub raising. I imagined some relationship between the sex and the drugs and the partying and the need for lots of running water and lord knows what else. Needless to say, I got annoyed. Then I kept hearing voices in the hallway and the door opening and closing, so I went to the peephole at the door and peered out.
Imagine this scene: Me feeling annoyed and possibly high from fumes looking out the peephole like some old crotchety woman. I laughed at myself, even.
The next day my apartment manager fixed the drain and mentioned that he went next door to work on the problem, also, so my suspicions were somewhat vindicated. The tub has been fine since, by the way.
Then today I noticed that sign on the door. I love it. It makes my imagination run even wilder!