Heel Walker

a new neighbor moved in to my building. directly below me. and whoever it is -- he/she is a HEEL WALKER. each and every footfall slams into their floor and i can hear each and every footstep in my unit -- which is ABOVE their unit. it's nearly unbearable. i even heard this person stomping around at 4:25 AM on saturday morning. i get up early but not THAT early. and definitely not on a saturday.

curiosity (and irritation) got the best of me. as soon as it was dark on saturday evening, which, in case you hadn't noticed, is by 6 PM these days, i went outside to see if i could spot this person thorugh their windows. totally pervy, i know. fuck you. maybe i'll come look in your windows next. (the very thought makes me sick. yeah, f u again.)

i looked up at their unit and it appeared they have dark drapes on the living room windows. damn. there was a flat panel TV mounted on a wall, but no sign of the resident, who momentarily was NOT stomping around their unit. probably loafing on their sofa, watching college football. the rest of the weekend progressed in a now-typical stomping/foot slamming fashion.

monday evening i got home from work early. i was heading into the building to check my mail when i paused, in full daylight, to peer up at slamfoot's unit in hopes of catching a glimpse of my lead-footed neighbor. and that's when i noticed it was not DRAPES in the living room windows blocking my view. no, no -- that would be far too classy. this person --slamfoot-- has a GIANT CARDBOARD BOX, deconstructed to flatness, over the half the windows in his/her living room. corrugated cardboard. complete with the label "this end up" and the explanatory arrow. in the window. of our high-end condo complex.

beautiful, just beautiful. there goes the neighborhood...