girl at large

I've said since I was all of 25 and already mildly bitter, that my ideal domestic situation is not marriage, or even living together, but instead is "Two one-bedroom apartments next door to each other with a shared balcony". Or perhaps one of those hotel-style adjoining-room double doors. 

I've lived in and viewed a hundred apartments–flats, duplexes, high rises, attics, basements, walk ups, chopped up Victorians, mid-century shambles, condo complexes, four plexes….and never have I seen a "shared balcony". Until now.

My new apartment has a wee tiny stoop…with a little walkway that continues down the side of the building and up to the neighboring one-bedroom apartments wee tiny stoop. In effect, a shared balcony. That apartment has been empty since I moved in, but this past week there was some renovation activity. And then…

There was a knock on my door tonight. I foolishly opened the door, thinking it was my other neighbor regarding our current parking dilemma–she's a 50ish woman. It was not her. It was my very tall, very handsome, 30's something very male new next door neighbor introducing himself.

I think I may have caught one of my swinging boobs in the door as I rushed to close it. "NOW'S NOT A GOOD TIME!!"  Bra-less, in slippers, skin rash cream fresh on my face, and I'm not kidding you, a dribble of toothpaste visible on my ratty t-shirt.

In my defense, I was getting ready for bed!! Who knocks on a strangers door at bedtime for the first introduction?!?!

Someone who doesn't get ready for bed at 8:30, that's who.