I apologize for how blurry the picture is, but I was trying to keep from getting caught. The shoes above belong to Godzilla, one of the losers, uh, neighbors next door. You may recall that we had a lot of rain in Los Angeles a couple of weekends ago. Well, sometimes when one is destroying Tokyo in a rainstorm, one gets mud on one's shoes. I opened the door to my apartment on Sunday morning to get the paper and saw a pair of slippers in the tiny, tiny space between our front doors, and that's when I grabbed the cell phone. Luckily, Godzilla doesn't tend to wake up early.
The night before this picture was taken had been a rough one, actually. Godzilla had spent most of the weekend hanging out with a group of friends led by a 25-year-old who thought he was quite the success story already. I know this because he proclaimed it loudly both inside Godzilla's apartment and then again in the hallway before they left for the evening on Friday. I'm not sure who it was that he was trying to convince.
They returned home at 2 a.m. or so on Saturday. I know this because they woke everyone in the apartment building up. Including her roommate, Warren (whose name I learned because they kept yelling it repeatedly). Warren was apparently distressed over something that had happened to Godzilla. Well, he said her face was "fucked up." I have no idea how. After some loud discussions back and forth--and repeated calls from other neighbors to shut up--and a few phone calls to the security guards--Godzilla and her Wunderkind took their argument outside. As in the front of the building. As in loud enough to be heard by everyone in the building. Thankfully, the security officers showed up quickly and quietened them down and sent Wunderkind on his way.
Wunderkind hasn't returned, to the best of my knowledge. Warren's presence hasn't been apparent in the past week either; I suspect that the early morning wake-up might have been the last straw in their friendship. And Godzilla has been chastised at least once more, this time for playing her music too loudly. I know this because I heard the knock on the door from the security guard. I hadn't fallen asleep yet because, well, the music from next door was too loud. Good thing someone in the building had the foresight to call and report it, huh?
Since the photo above was taken, she has purchased a doormat. It's actually quite a pitiful one. No, I don't have a picture, at least not yet. It's small and obviously cheap, like one you'd pick up at the 99 Cents Store. I purchased a rather nice one a few years ago, but I keep mine just inside the front door. I figured the people streaming in and out of the apartment next door would wipe their dirty shoes on my mat, and I'd be left cleaning up after them. From the looks of the shoes above, my fears weren't unfounded. Oddly enough, it has stayed relatively clean inside my apartment.
I have to admit that I'm a bit worried about this doormat purchase. That might indicate a desire to stay here longer than the six months or so that the last two sets of tenants have managed. Then again, given how cheap it was, she might consider it to be disposable. Time will tell.
No comments:
Post a Comment