Tuesday, September 22

Drained


"YES, we must go NOW."

There is a pause in the exasperation.

"Yes, I mean it: NOW."

We have new neighbours but I'm not sure exactly which apartment they have rented but I can hear them loud and clear through my bathroom drains. Loud and freakin' clear.

Ai, the joys of apartment living.

These new neighbours obviously have offspring which is unusual in this building full of decaying folk. Oh, that was slanderous ageism there -- bad motherbumper, bad. But seriously, the majority of the peeps we pass in the hallway are totally bench pressing a hundred - easy. Many of these octogenarians and octogenarian-wannabees are nice, many are nasty, and many smell like they've been attacked by an Avon rep; most days, walking through our lobby is like running a rest home gauntlet.

For the record I love old people, in fact some of my closest friends are old people.

*sigh* I miss how the elder locals used to ignore me before I became a parent. Now I have to try to outrun some of them and their unsolicited advice -- or worse, their poking fingers that try to touch my child in what I assume is an attempt to steal her youthful pixie gold.

Anyhow, new blood in the building:

For the past week, whenever I'm in the washroom, I can hear the new neighbours. A yelling child and a sometimes-sounding-exasperated woman. Their voices come up (down?) through the drains and temporarily distract me from the swarm of fruit flies around my head.

It's weird hearing a child's voice instead of an extra-loud episode of Law and Order or Lloyd Robertson reading the national news. I swear that who ever lived in the pipe-amplifying apartment before this family, had one of those reverse Whisper 2000 units attached to their television. Or maybe they had the telly in the bathtub. All I can say is that idiot box was loud.

But back to the new child: Sometimes I wonder if this kid is around G's age. Maybe I should try to seek them out to see if they are playdate material? Maybe the mom is my kind of people. It would be nice to know someone in the building who isn't rushing to knock off a few points on the bucket-list.

But then I remember my crippling shyness and general all around awkwardness and realize that even if I found them and they didn't think I was stalking them, I'd probably alienate them somehow. Blurt out something inappropriate, make offensive small talk, fart.

So I'll just keep sitting around, swatting the fruit flies away while wishing I could get my head out of my butt long enough to demonstrate to my child that making friends isn't really that hard at all. Because it isn't, is it?

16 comments:

Kyla said...

I so don't think of you as shy. If you were in my building, I would most definitely want to meet you. Or be stalked by you, either really.

pixielation said...

Best to do it as early as you can, so it's still the "hi, so you're new?" conversation - once they've been there 6 months that one doesn't work so well!

for a different kind of girl said...

There's a house for sale next door to me. It needs some work, but the perk is it's next door to me, so the work thing is just a detail. If you have a hankerin' to move to Iowa - where, I assure you, few of us actually use the word 'hankerin'' - I shall allow you to stalk me on days when I am not stalking you.

Also, based on how often my doorbell rings and there's a kids face peering in the screen door, the neighbors certainly aren't scared of the way I'm always (sometimes) loudly cheering my kids on to eat or stop touching each other, etc. Just in case, though, that house next door to me? It has a fence. You could remain hidden if you want.

Mary G said...

I am totally with you on this one; we have new folk down the road and I am nagging myself to go and welcome them, but have not yet found the courage or sang froid or whatever. Sigh.

mapsgirl said...

You should seek them out. I would think that the more you had in your army, the easier it might be to run the gauntlet.

I don't see you as a shy person, plus the first topic of conversation would be easier...the building and it's inhabitants...that is something you have in common.

kgirl said...

Why it's good living in a building full of old people: when you do finally talk to the new neighbour, you can blame the farts on the geezer that just walked by. (I did this once in yoga. for reals)

Chag said...

Making friends IS really that hard.

Heather said...

I am the same way. That's part of the reason I don't go to BlogHer.

Mayberry said...

But: what if they can hear you through the pipes? awk...

Heather said...

You can do it Katie! Do I need to come up there and stand in your lobby yelling crazy things (that you wanted me to stand up and yell at blissdom) so we can find this lady.

mamatulip said...

When we moved here, our next door neighbours completely disregarded us. COMPLETELY. I was both annoyed and relieved.

mamatulip said...

Oh, and also. This?

Blurt out something inappropriate, make offensive small talk, fart.

GET OUT OF MY BRAIN.

Mac and Cheese said...

You could always introduce yourself by yelling through the pipes. That's always a good ice breaker.

Mr. Imelda said...

Yes you COULD make the effort, and they COULD have a child the right age- and it could be great.

Or not.

When the parents of kids exactly the same ages as our two moved in across the street, we were very happy- until the parental peer pressure kicked in a scant few weeks later. Then we were in high school again, constantly reminded how inadequate we are... Sh*t, I never expected that! Can we send THEM your way?!

Twenty Four At Heart said...

I'm shy too. Seriously. When we moved into our neighborhood I was overjoyed at all the moms and kids. Turned out they were all Stepford Wife types as you can only find in THE OC. Now my kids are all teens so all that playdate crap is past us. Thank Gawd. They sit around comparing plastic surgeons and I wave as I drive down the street.

Stacey said...

Who wouldn't love an introduction like, "Hi, we haven't met yet, but I can hear you through our bathroom pipes . . ."