In:
The three apartments surrounding mine have all been reoccupied over the past few weeks.
The one across the breezeway from me, formerly Casa de Flaming Bull, seems to be occupied by a late teens/early twenties guy, Hispanic, of course, who gets regular visits from his mother and sister. He's quiet so all's good. I have yet to actually meet him. All my information is postulated from peeping at him through my peephole. He keeps a plastic planter or bed riser thing near the front door. I think it's used as a "do not disturb" signal. I'm not sure. It sure isn't aesthetic. Either he or his mom cooks on occasion. More often than the previous occupants. And much better selection of aromas like just now I'm smelling peppers and onions. And they're not burned to a crisp! He's frequently shirtless and has several gang-style Hispanic tattoos on his body.
I'll call him "El Diablo".
The apartments opposite my bed head and the one above me, previously the domains of "Thumper" and "Senorita Corazon Solitario" are also occupied...I think.
You see, so far, these tenants have been so unbelievably quiet. I heard them move in, but aside from that I almost never hear from them. Virtually nothing from the one near my bed head and only the occasional footfall in the overhead one. These guys are either at work all the time or I'm just going deaf. Either way, I'm not complaining.
They have yet to be named.
Out:
I got irritated by a phone call I had with Ric at the beginning of August. He called me asking for help with a computer problem he was having. I provided as much information I could based on what symptoms he was telling me but since it was a problem I was not familiar with, I told him that he should Google it and he'd likely find a forum where this same problem has been answered before. He thought I was being dismissive and he expressed as much. I felt unfairly judged and though I made him aware of this, he fluffed it off. As usual.
So for the next few weeks I ignored all incoming calls from him and only acknowledged the previously commited-to plan that I'd pick him up at the airport when he returned from his family reunion in Indiana.
I picked him up last night and on the drive to his place told him, in so many words, that I didn't want to be his friend anymore.
Now you know I've done this many times before over the past few years, but this time, I assumed, on some level, he really, finally got it. It's over!
But, as I pulled out of the parking spot of his condo he called out to me, "We're all going to Key West for my 50th birthday (in February 2013)...me, Joe, Zach, Scott and you!"
Yeah, I thought as I pulled away and drove through Lake Mary for what I hoped was the last time.
Yeah, we'll see.
The three apartments surrounding mine have all been reoccupied over the past few weeks.
The one across the breezeway from me, formerly Casa de Flaming Bull, seems to be occupied by a late teens/early twenties guy, Hispanic, of course, who gets regular visits from his mother and sister. He's quiet so all's good. I have yet to actually meet him. All my information is postulated from peeping at him through my peephole. He keeps a plastic planter or bed riser thing near the front door. I think it's used as a "do not disturb" signal. I'm not sure. It sure isn't aesthetic. Either he or his mom cooks on occasion. More often than the previous occupants. And much better selection of aromas like just now I'm smelling peppers and onions. And they're not burned to a crisp! He's frequently shirtless and has several gang-style Hispanic tattoos on his body.
I'll call him "El Diablo".
The apartments opposite my bed head and the one above me, previously the domains of "Thumper" and "Senorita Corazon Solitario" are also occupied...I think.
You see, so far, these tenants have been so unbelievably quiet. I heard them move in, but aside from that I almost never hear from them. Virtually nothing from the one near my bed head and only the occasional footfall in the overhead one. These guys are either at work all the time or I'm just going deaf. Either way, I'm not complaining.
They have yet to be named.
Out:
I got irritated by a phone call I had with Ric at the beginning of August. He called me asking for help with a computer problem he was having. I provided as much information I could based on what symptoms he was telling me but since it was a problem I was not familiar with, I told him that he should Google it and he'd likely find a forum where this same problem has been answered before. He thought I was being dismissive and he expressed as much. I felt unfairly judged and though I made him aware of this, he fluffed it off. As usual.
So for the next few weeks I ignored all incoming calls from him and only acknowledged the previously commited-to plan that I'd pick him up at the airport when he returned from his family reunion in Indiana.
I picked him up last night and on the drive to his place told him, in so many words, that I didn't want to be his friend anymore.
Now you know I've done this many times before over the past few years, but this time, I assumed, on some level, he really, finally got it. It's over!
But, as I pulled out of the parking spot of his condo he called out to me, "We're all going to Key West for my 50th birthday (in February 2013)...me, Joe, Zach, Scott and you!"
Yeah, I thought as I pulled away and drove through Lake Mary for what I hoped was the last time.
Yeah, we'll see.