in the whole time nate and i lived in st joe, not one neighbor came over to introduce themselves. and vice versa, just so you know i am guilty here too. we occasionally talked to the guy next door over the yard, but never at the door.
well, in the two months we’ve been here, i’ve met the upstairs neighbor as well as the guy next door. hooo boy.
the gal upstairs is relatively unweird, but can be a little chatty. she came down to borrow coffee and a little milk because she didn’t want to go out in the snow. well, i told her i don’t drink coffee regularly, but sent her on her way with a k-cup and no milk because i barely had enough for breakfast. chatty chatty.
the guy next door banged on my door and introduced himself as the “guy who lives in the house right there.” and he noticed some shoe track through the snow across his lawn. now before i was here, there were some convicts living here, tattoos up and down their arms, with two rottweilers, who would apparently walk across his lawn. did i walk across his lawn? because the only people who’ve lived here have been trouble.
uh, no. i did not walk across your lawn. and he could see two cats staring at him. along with a huge stack of library books on the table. i was not his perpetrator. maybe it was the catering guys next door?
oh those guys don’t care what’s happening. do anything you like, they won’t care. and he turned around a left.
hmmmm. i think he wanted to yell at someone for walking on his lawn (yes, typical old guy) but i was not the person he was looking for. sorry dude. nice to meet you.