PART ONE - Neighbors in confined spaces

Today I will be starting a three part series on neighbors. The first two parts clearly explain why we should avoid all neighborhood interactions beyond the occasional wave. I know this seems to go against my optimist/nice person stance but if you hang in there with me I think you will see the logic eventually. The most important segment is part three which will deal with the vital question "What do you do in an emergency and you have no friends as neighbors?" So if you miss the first two, or are just bored with the first two and stop checking my blog, don't miss this one. It just might save your life.

The main problem is that once you get to know your neighbors there is no escaping them. And dealing with neighbors on a regular basis, will lead to an absolute dissolving of the system of rules that I have so painstakingly been laying out for you in this blog.

I will begin by addressing the problem of apartment living and the complication of owning the said apartment. Living in this particular indoor neighborhood provided a plethora of exciting things! For instance, notes slipped under our door, from the old lady who lived downstairs, written while drunk.  This provided us with endless laughter. Although if I am being honest, I was often afraid that the notes, written sometimes in red sharpie or lipstick, we couldn’t tell which, could be a sign we were about to be murdered. We would have a good laugh and then our laughter would slowly fade to a sigh. Then we’d  stand silently, re reading the note, contemplating our lives. And if this was to be our last night on earth, had we really lived it to the fullest? She would alternate between leaving the threatening notes and begging Alan to search her apartment for an intruder who she was sure had made it inside. We were willing to put up with this treatment because we looked trendy in our miniscule downtown apartment. (I say "apartment" but when we tried to sell the albatross we called it a "condo" this did not help it's status in anyway. And I say  “looked” because we were in no way cool or trendy.) Also, we had endless entertainment from the drunk people who took shelter in the alley we shared with a large office building. What we weren’t prepared for was the famous HOA meeting.

The thing took almost two hours and the vote being put to us was whether or not to repaint the front door of the building which was looking a bit shabby. A couple of people voted no, a couple yes and then this guy said he would be “abstaining from voting” and he would not tell us why. I just sat there my mind racing for a list of serious reasons that would force a guy, who seems relatively normal, to abstain from voting about the front door. Had he murdered someone and written a confession on the door and then painted over it? And then when we stripped it, we would see it? Perhaps he had a fear of doors? Or maybe he was a covert operative for the CIA and his signal to his handler was repainting the front door. When we repainted it we would trigger a rescue with tact teams and guns, his cover blown and National Security at risk.  But then wouldn’t he have just voted no? Maybe he thought the beat up door looked old fashioned but was embarrassed that he liked old fashioned things. But again wouldn’t he have just voted no? There is no space in my brain that helps me account for this strange occurrence. I had a very difficult time not laughing out loud which would have turned the VERY serious HOA meeting into a chaotic firefight of words and accusations  about heavy footsteps and the EQ of the bass. (See? Clearly violating rule one.)

We stopped going to HOA meetings after this, deciding that we could not care enough about the building to abstain from voting about any of it. So we thought we should leave it to people who act like deciding to paint the front door is akin to solving world hunger. Plus no one ever brought food. I mean if you are going to discuss the front door for two hours someone should have made cookies. Maybe they were trying to solve world hunger! And the no food or drink thing was a statement of solidarity! And the painting of the front door was a difficult decision because of the symbolism… You know like… Our old door stands as a reminder of those in need. Wow! I really did not give these people enough credit. Although, it still doesn’t explain the death threats written in lipstick. No, I think my point still stands, avoid your neighbors even if you share a building with them.