Won’t Hear A Squeak Out Of Me

(I’m in the flat on my own when I hear the bell ring. I answer it and find a girl I don’t know there.)

Girl: “Who’s got the squeaky door?”

Me: “What?

Girl: “I live in the flat below. One of your doors squeaks really loudly. It’s very distracting.”

Me: “Well I’ve never noticed anything like that.”

Girl: “Could you put a maintenance report in?”

Me: “Not if it’s not my room. I’ll ask around, see if the others can do anything.”

(She scowls and leaves. I make a note on the whiteboard in the kitchen and think nothing of it. A few days later, I answer the door again.)

Warden: “I got a maintenance report of a squeaky door. They put a flat number but not a room. Do you know who it is?”

Me: “No, sorry.”

Warden: “Has anyone mentioned anything?”

Me: “Well, the girl downstairs did come complaining…”

Warden: *rolls eyes* “Oh, her!”