So here is something that happened last week:
My landlord left me a notice a couple weeks ago about workers accessing my apartment to put in new windows. I picked up the notice, read it, put it on the counter and promptly forgot about it. So on Thursday I come home and there are two people in my apartment and two people outside my bedroom window on a Genie lift.
If I would have remembered they were going to be there, I would have put certain things away…
As it was, there were two chairs facing each other in my living room under an IR lamp hanging from the ceiling and sitting on one of the chairs there was a hanger, weights, wrapping materials, and Scotch tape. On the end table in the living room there was another pile containing my PE weights, rolled up hair tie wraps, two long pieces of Theraband, and two strips of coban tape. In the bathroom there was a pump cylinder with progress markings all around the top. And then in my bedroom, where they were working, there was my brake bleeder hooked into a different cylinder, a Noogleberry breast pump system completely assembled and out of its carrying case, and my PE toolbox, wide open, visibly filled with cock rings, clamps, an extender, my huge static stretcher, and miles of ace bandage, self-adhesive wrap, and sweat shirt strips. They actually had to move the stuff over to make a clear path to the window! Oh, and in every room, including the kitchen, there was a big bottle of lube. Except in the bathroom, there were two in there.
So this is what I find when I get home. I of course say nothing and go directly into the living room and start watching a movie. I leave everything where it’s at, like it’s supposed to be there and totally normal.
They never said anything about any of it, but they gave me some very strange looks. In fact, the two guys inside were definitely father and son, I would guess a summer job for his son while high school is not in session, and when they left the son smirked and the father gave me a pretty dirty look. Almost a sneer really.
The only thing they did comment on was my pet duck. The kid left, came back in carrying a shop vac, and said, “cool pet.” I said, “thanks.” That was the extent of my talking with them.
If walls could talk!
Roots