Awkward . . .

So, this morning I was in the shower and I heard some loud thumps. I didn't think anything of the noise because our upstairs neighbors are about the loudest people you can imagine. They walk around like elephants, have screaming, yelling fistfights in the middle of the night and sometimes drop articles of clothing onto our deck. Naturally I assumed the thumps came from above me. After I finished my shower and toweled off I realized that there were some noises coming from inside my apartment. Scary. I knew that maintenance might send in a crew to patch up a plaster hole in our ceiling. I hoped that the intruder would be just one small immigrant being paid to do a job that Americans won't do. Several small immigrants laughing at the unprepared resident and speaking a language I don't know would have been a bit too much. I was wondering if I should peek out of the bathroom or just wait until the person was gone.

Then it occurred to me that if someone was robbing my apartment I would not want them to find me naked in the bathroom on their way through to check the medicine cabinet for controlled substances. I had brought my pajamas with me into the bathroom -- no I don't always do that. So, I got dressed in the pjs quickly and opened the door.

It was just the dumbest evar maintenance guy patching the plaster on our ceiling. Any of the other maintenance guys would have noticed the sound of the shower running and come back later. I had been all set to say, "What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" With outrage. But seeing that young idiot all I could muster was a confused, "Hello?"

Yes, he apologized, claimed he thought no one was home, and finished quickly. Then he left. Yeah. Awkward.