I don’t have any particular agenda for this posting, so we’ll just see where it goes.
I remember this apartment I had years ago….my first place on my own (not counting my dorm room at ESU). I moved in on Oct 1st, and I think I had a roomie by November. Being my first place and all I really had no clue about living on my own. I was still fighting with my parents a little bit (they weren’t happy with my choice to move out on my own), so I was pretty well ostracized. Anyways, that’s besides the point.
The apartment was right across the street from the hospital. It was a white 2-story duplex house. (it used to be a solid house, but was converted into a duplex). There was this elderly guy, he was a mix of senile and just plain crazy. I swear he would sit right by the connecting door (my entrance was on the side of the house, and you had to go up stairs immediately after entering. There was a door at the bottom of the stairs that used to be an adjoining doorway between the floors), and listen for the slightest noise and then complain about it.