Phantom Neighbors

I haven’t used a dishwasher in years. When you’re one of four kids, there’s an understanding that you, the child, becomes the dishwasher and the actual machine becomes a storage unit for forgotten dishes. So today, I decided to inaugurate my dishwasher. The amount of water wasted on such a minimal amount of dishes is a shame I will have to live with for the rest of my days, but on the upside, my dishes are clean for tomorrow, so…

Also, how do you introduce yourself to your neighbors? I don’t bake, I don’t do origami, I have no skills outside of design or writing. Maybe I’ll write them a short story about how there is now a sarcastic introvert living in their building and she doesn’t have fully developed social skills so proceed with caution. I could call it, “If You See Her In The Hallway, Don’t Make Direct Eye Contact: A Guide To Understanding Your Strange New Neighbor.”

Maybe I could invite them over for a little brunch? I could have them all sit in a circle in my empty living room and we could do trust exercises. “Bring Your Own Finger Food. And Plates. And Utensils,” that’s what the invite could say. Or maybe leave a trail of crumbs from each of their doors leading to mine and when they all converge at my apartment I wordlessly give them a list with all my social media info and then quietly close the door.

They make this seem so easy on TV.


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