Ezzie: why not? duh.
Wednesday, March 26th
Early this morning, i grabbed my coffee, abnormally large bag, outgoing
mail, and keys and left my apartment. I got to my car and unlocked it, threw in
my bag, sat down, put my coffee in the cup holder, mail on the dashboard, and
the keys in the ignition. Then i looked down.
Unexplainably, my skirt was dirty. I guess these things can go
unnoticed when you're getting dressed in the dark at 6:30 in the morning.
Frustrated and running late, i climbed out of the car and ran back up the front
steps. Something caught my eye.
Laying on the ground next to my neighbors Acura (why she drives an
acura and lives in my building i'll never know) was a bright green 'alligator
skin' wallet. I opened it up to check if it belonged to the girl next door. Out
of state address, don't we all have one? I checked the picture, but I've never
really seen the neighbors. My husband and I have no idea what her name is. My
husband has seen her coming and going to dance class, and she once asked for
help with her car. To us she is just "Dancer Girl".
We also have "Smokey Smokerson" (smokes in the building), "Crazy Paranoid
Guy" from downstairs who now lives in our walls (that's another story) and was
recently replaced by "Temple Convert" (he heard our zemiros one week and told us
he's converting through the Temple across the street), "The 4AM-ers" upstairs
(one of them always wakes up at four in the morning, walks around, and makes
coffee. We hear the spoon stirring. I don't know why. We hear coughing and
people blowing their noses also!), Lady with a Cat (the hair is everywhere,
including the laundry room*), and the Dumb Barking Dog (scares the daylights out
of me everytime i pass their door). Of course Cat, Dog, and Smoker could be
other people too, or the same person. Like i said, we never see these
Anyway, I ran into the building with the wallet and into my apartment. My
husband heard me come in and came to see why I was back. I asked if he knew what
DG's name was, and he had no idea. I handed him the wallet and asked if that's
what she looked like, and he said it was her (pre-blonde, apparently). I found a
clean skirt and went to return the wallet.
What's the point? I don't know.
Maybe that it just goes to show what a small town place this is. In
previous cities i've lived in, you couldn't leave as much as a slurpee in a
*locked* car without a window getting smashed. Here a wallet can sit on the
ground all night and won't get touched. Or that in a place like Pickwick we'd
know everyone in our building and who the wallet belonged to, but here we have
to give the neighbors nicknames instead.
Maybe that was the reason that my skirt was unexplainably dirty. So i'd
have to go back inside, notice the wallet and return it to the owner.
Maybe by returning her wallet we left a good impression on her. Score
one for the Jews.
Maybe I felt like writing.*yes, communal laundry room, this ain't
pickwick.posted by stam :)