Oh Landlady Next Door.
You are so morose and mousy. This makes me very frustrated, because being around you makes me sad. Sad that I live next to you. You’re so fucking mopey and fearful. It drives me crazy. But more than you in general, it’s the little things you do that make you such a pain in the ass. Having a 3 inch thick main door like a vault is great; who can hate on safety? And because it is the common door that leads to the foyer that splits our two apartments, we also reap the benefits of your vigilance, safety-wise. We’ve been using the same lock for the 8 months we’ve lived here and there’s been no intruders, no crowbar scuffs on the door, nothing to indicate we need extra security. So why the other lock, with the extra big key, so the door has to be locked and unlocked in a specific order, like a Chinese puzzle? I think if someone was going to get in the door, they would either be dissuaded by its vault-like proportions, or blow it up. One or two locks is really a moot point, with a door like that. And especially locking it mid-day, while we’re home. That’s just really, really, unnecessary and stupid. And anyway, they’d then be confronted with two additional heavy doors, at which point I think the gypsies or ruffians and miscreants you fear would probably get the hint and look for somewhere else to go. In fact I’m sure they already have.
Or, maybe you could look after your dog. The German Shepherd, keep her fierce and vigilant. Instead you keep her outside in your tiny, dusty yard where she grows sad and lonely while her muscles atrophy. That sucks for a dog,
Also, your sadsack whiny voice is grating. As is the fact you look through me towards Chiara when I’m around. In fact, my litany of petty complaints is pretty long, but it can really be summed up thusly: “Lighten Up! I mean, seriously, for fuck’s sake.” No wonder your daughter’s so crazy.
Maybe we should just have a retinal scan when we get home, whaddya think?
