Like A Good Neighbor, Mind Your Freaking Business

I have a close friend who is black move into my apartment. Shortly thereafter, I spend three weeks downstate for work-related purposes.

As I am making my way down the apartment hallway, I run into an elderly neighbor who is well known for stirring up trouble and constantly complaining. For instance, she once called the police on a trio of second-grade girls who were selling Girl Scout cookies door-to-door and apparently did not see or understand a posted “No Soliciting” sign.

Neighbor: “Does that black girl live in that apartment with you?”

Me: “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes — and yes, she is on the lease, so don’t even bother trying to report her because you’ll just be wasting your time.”

Neighbor: “Ho-ho-ho-ho! It’s worse than that! I don’t know where the h*** you’ve been, but that girl has been blasting rap music at all hours of the day, and there have been all kinds of people coming in and out of that apartment — day and night! I’ve already complained to the management, just to let you know!”

Me: *Cold stare* “Really.”

Neighbor: “She’s a rude little s***, too; twice I tried to talk to her when I saw her in the building, trying to ask if she lived there, and she just kept right on walking like she was too good to even look in my direction! Who the h*** does she think she is?”

Me: “Right. That’s because she’s hearing impaired. That’s not to mention she’s a painfully shy introvert who spends her time programming and blogging. So either there is some serious paranormal activity going on in our apartment, or you’re just itching for me to recruit the whole building to mob you out of your apartment — permanently.”

She stares at me for a minute and then starts walking into her apartment.

Neighbor: “I’m keeping my eye on her.”

Me: “I’m sure she’s flattered by all the attention.”