If you ever wonder what a rhinoceros sounds like bowling at 3AM, come spend a night in my apartment.
The guy upstairs — I’ve never seen his face, but I swear he does parkour in his living room. Every night. Without fail.
At this point, we’re in a passive-aggressive stand-off. I stomp when he stomps. He drops something heavy when I play music. We’re basically enemies in a sitcom now.
I should leave him a note. Or maybe bake cookies. Or maybe put glitter in his mailbox. The jury’s still out.
No comments:
Post a Comment