Last night I was asked if I was a terrorist by a complete stranger.
This is one of those times I wish that I was always prepared with a witty retort. Usually I'm pretty good, but when you're caught off guard all you can utter to this question is "uhhhh . . . no."
This is the first time I've lived in a secure building and it has its ups and downs.
1. I can totally escape people I don't want to deal with
2. I can passively escape people I don't know about - but wouldn't want to deal with (I'm talking to you, girl scouts!)
3. I FINALLY get to use that buzzer thing!! I'll let visitors state their purpose and then its up to me whether or not they are worthy of the door buzz.
1. How many doors do I have to fucking unlock before I get into my apartment?!
2. When a neighbor holds the door for me he feels it's his douchy, douchy right to look me up down before making sure I'm not a terrorist. By asking if I'm a terrorist. You know what, asshole? Next time just let the door close behind you and I can unlock it myself.
Here's my summary of a secured building: Secure building? Good. Building secured by doorman? Better!
Here's where my cage can still be rattled - locked up or not. My building's super can get in to anything at anytime.
I think I scared off Igor with my shrine of perversion I left in the living room solely for his benefit. But I'm not certain and I keep my chain on all the time.
You see, I have a history with property management staff with boundary issues.
One time I made the mistake of moving into an apartment across the breezeway from my leasing manager. I called her "Scary Sherry". She was scary, hence the name.
Sherry would pound on my door at all hours of the night when she was drunk and needed a cigarette. She'd stand outside at 3 o'clock in the morning and shout about how she needed a smoke, she was scared to be alone, and finally - how she could see lights or movement through the peephole.
I grinned and dealt with her because she conveniently looked the other way when I would boldly violate the terms of my lease.
My scariest apartment building personnel encounter of all time happened in my first apartment from the maintenance man.
One day I woke up at the crack of noon. I groggily rolled over in my bed, rubbed my eyes and looked at this creepy man I had never seen before standing directly over my bed staring at me. He looked like a complete vagrant. Why the hell is this person in my bedroom with me while I'm alone, naked, and not awake enough to form coherent thoughts?!?!
He explained that he was there to replace a couple of slats that were missing from my window. In the living room. The questions keep coming to me even now. Why was there no warning? Why was he in my bedroom? And why was I still missing window slats when he left and never came back? Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!! Creeper!!!
Yeah. I'm a big fan of the door chain these days. That and shoving furniture up against the door.