How Not to Meet Your Neighbors

I hate moving. I hate packing, I hate lifting shit and the mere thought of hanging a picture or getting into a UHaul truck is enough to make me vomit. That’s why I make my Mexican friend do it for me – they like that stuff.

As is the case with most of us, I’ve moved around quite a bit in my early adult life and met some pretty interesting characters along the way. In true Glitter Ginger fashion, most introductions and run-ins were awkward and occasionally involved the cops.

I moved into my fabulous studio apartment this past December, which is in a complex containing roughly 100 units per building. All of the doors look exactly the same but have your unit number on the outside.

So naturally, while returning from my run a little before 6am one cold, January morning, I accidentally broke into my neighbor’s apartment…while wearing a reflective vest and head lamp.

How does something like this happen, you ask? Well..I was 1-still new to the building 2- it was 5:45 in the morning so I wasn’t fully awake yet 3- I was freezing and cranky since it was freakin’ January and I had just made a sad, sad attempt at a 5 mile run and 4- I’m dumb.

I walked down the hall and put my key into what I thought was my apartment door, and it wouldn’t unlock. I began kicking the door and swearing in a full-on Ginger fury panic for at least 30 seconds until, much to my surprise, someone opened the door from the other side, while screaming “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

I jumped, screamed and looked up at the very angry, tired and irritated 45 year old man who lives in unit 34. I live in unit 36. I completely forgot I had my head lamp on (safety first when running in the dark; the last thing I need is to be hit by a fucking truck) so when I looked up I shined it in his eyes.

Mind you, this was still well before 6am. He threw his hands in front of his eyes to shield them from my forehead beacon while sternly saying “what the hell do you want!?”

“Oh my god, I’m SO SORRY. I live next door and thought this was my apartment! I’m so sorry”

“It’s fine – just go away. And shot off your head lamp”

Door slam.

I have probably made this same mistake at least once a week for the last two months. This man literally hates me and if I ever go missing I can pretty much guarantee it’s because my neighbor strangled me out of frustration due to my constant attempts at breaking into his apartment.

To the man living in apartment 34:

Sir, I am incredibly sorry. I’d like to be able to tell you that these mix ups will stop happening but I just can’t promise that. Mostly because I never pay attention to what I’m doing, but what I can do is perhaps put some sort of decoration on my door so I know where I live. Like a crown or I dunno, a Leonardo Dicaprio poster.

Sincerely, Glitter Ginger.

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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony

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