Yesterday I was unloading the dishwasher (no, that's not the interesting part of the story!!) and heard a strange scratching at my door. So I went over and looked out the peephole and there was a little Puerto Rican man with a squirt bottle washing my door. Two thoughts immediately went through my mind:
1. Is the door locked? No. OK, lock it very quietly so he doesn't think I'm paranoid.
2. Is he employed by the apartment complex to be washing doors? Maybe I should call and find out...
All I could think of was those homeless people in cities who wash windshields at red lights. I thought this guy was going to wash my door and then knock and ask for a tip! I didn't bother calling the office, and he ultimately left without knocking. I was glad I locked the door when I did though, because he washed the doorknob a minute later and it jiggled a little bit and I totally would've freaked out if the door wasn't locked.
3 comments:
That's amazing!!! In the apartments that Mom lived in it was like pulling teeth to get things fixed and at your place they clean your door? I am so impressed. Of course that in no way makes up for the fire alarm crap you have to put up with.
Was it the office who sent the guy, or was it a burglar with a door washing rouse?
we're assuming it was the office. I checked on Beth's apartment last night and her door was clean too.
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