Sometimes I miss our apartment. I miss the simplicity of that chapter in our lives – a time before I was concerned with things like property taxes and how frequently others in the house were pooping. Each time one of us sells an organ to bankroll a major home repair, I look back through a thick haze of rosy retrospection, to that little brick four-family apartment building we called home.
And then the reality I temporarily cast aside on my trip down memory lane comes full circle and whacks me in the back of the head.
Carrying groceries up 2 flights of stairs. People moving in and out ALL. THE. TIME. Noisy, drunk, chain-smoking neighbors. Let’s be honest; that place kind of sucked.
At one point, hubs and I found ourselves in a bit of a feud with a couple from downstairs (the woman in particular) over acceptable use of the shared laundry facilities. We brought up the teensie weensie matter of cigarette butts being discarded in the lint bucket, and you know. . .asked them to knock it off. She thought we should mind our own business.
Right. Good talk.
I don’t really consider myself a narc, but I wasn’t very amped about the idea of perishing in a fiery inferno, so I may have mentioned something to our landlord.
That went over about as well as you’d expect.
Anyway, somewhere around that time, the following transpired:
Me: Where is the laundry detergent?
Monte: Downstairs next to the dryer.
Me: Well it’s not now.
Me: Nope. I think the neighbors took it!
Monte: You have got to be kidding me. Is it in our storage unit?
Me: I don’t see it.
Monte: That makes me really mad.
Me: This is crazy. Why would they steal it??
Monte: They were using their own detergent last night. I saw it.
Me: I’ll be back.
Monte: Wait, where are you going? You’re not going to accuse them of stealing our soap, right?
Me: I knocked on the door but no one answered. I am so mad. Why would they STEAL our SOAP? They must have stolen it. Her empty soap is in the trash down there. That was BRAND NEW. Should I call the landlord?
Monte: Not unless you know for sure it was them.
Me: I thought we could trust them!
Monte: We’ve left our soap down there plenty of times and nothing has happened.
Me: I know!
Monte: If you see them with that bottle or something we’ll call. Somehow I don’t think it was them.
Me: I DO!
Monte: Whatever. We’re taking our junk upstairs or locking it up next time. If they need to resort to stealing laundry soap, I pity them.
Me: I feel like ripping up the clothes they have hanging downstairs on the line! I guess I’ll look around one more time…
30 minutes later
Me: Babe, I found the detergent. It was in our bathroom 🙁
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