I thought we were friendly with our neighbors across the hall. She brought us sweets from her favorite bakery (which weren't very good,) after visiting her sister in Germany she would return with chocolates, and was always courteous to a fault running into her on laundry day. When she moved without telling us, our feelings got hurted.
As far as condo complexes go, this one could use a face lift. Our interior space is calming after a long day but the hallways with their brown burber, tan/yellow walls, and forest green accents hurt my designing, gay from the waist up soul. The worst aspect of recent remodeling efforts is the dungeon like elevator with fake stone linoleum floor tiles. We don't take the elevator.
Most of the tenants, from the seventy-two units, add to my general distaste.
Irv introduced himself by yelling at me from across the parking lot. My dog was on the lawn, which is a no-go according to the bylaws. I'm all for rules, even ones as lame as this one, but how about walking over to inform me like a civilized human?
One door down live the Kristovis. English is a second language, so conversing with them is ... well, awkward. When we congratulated them on the birth of their daughter, they assumed we were complaining about the crying and could not be convinced otherwise. The crying wasn't bad at all, especially since the child lives half of every year in Bolivia with Grandma because it's cheaper.
There is a couple we enjoy from 102 named Ken and Barb (guess what they substituted for a wedding cake topper.) Sharing a common age with Ken and Barb goes a long way for small talk, but no urges for social endeavors have arisen. Ken talks a lot, smokes a lot, and talks a lot. They work downtown Chicago and want to move West, increasing their round-trip commute to sixty miles a day.
When the movers arrived to move little Lao lady, we were confused. Nothing had ever been mentioned. That day in passing, we were told about the move by little Lao lady and how she would occupy the unit for a while longer since she still needed to sell it. A week later to the day someone else moved in.
While little Lao lady lied, we've already had pleasant encounters with our new neighbor. Her English accent is mildly mesmerizing, her daughter shy but polite, and when I found her car keys near the mail boxes she was overcome with joy. I hope her bakery doesn't suck.
3 comments:
Maybe you'll bangers and mash instead of baked goods!
At first I thought you said Lil Lao Lady died.
you neglected to mention that lil lao lady was phobic of your teeny tiny dog. i'm sure she hated your guts after you got the dog. maybe she just gave you chocolates so you wouldn't sick the pooch on her.
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