My apartment is an old Victorian house that has been divided into three apartments, one on each floor. Actually, it's an old Victorian twin house divided by floor so technically there's six apartments, but we don't associate with the other side of the house because it smells and they have dirty windows. Anyway, the three apartments on our side share a washer and dryer in the basement. This means whenever I do my laundry I have to lug everything down the steps, out the front door, around the side, and into the basement through one of those cellar doors that reminds me of the Wizard of Oz because sometimes when I pull it open I pretend I have to get in that basement real fast because THE TORNADO IS RIGHT BEHIND ME.
Since there's only two other people who share the laundry area with us, we don't often have overlaps. But recently we have. Because we share the facilities, I'm usually quite on top of my laundry timing, so I can get everything in and out as quickly as possible. But recently, no matter how precise I try to be when switching my laundry, it always seems like my downstairs neighbor gets there before me. And if he does, he usually switches my clothes from washer to dryer, or from dryer to clothes basket.
THE MAN IS FOLDING MY UNDERWEAR. And at first I didn't mind because okay, he's in a rush, I was too slow. But I swear my stuff doesn't even sit there for five minutes before I'm down there to switch machines and somehow he always gets there first, no matter when I do my laundry. WHY IS HE ALWAYS THERE?
And a few weeks ago, I had a pile of delicates that I left on top of the dryer -- DIRTY delicates -- and when I got back down to put them in, they were gone. I'm talking underwear, bras, tights, a dress, WOMEN'S THINGS. So I figured he accidentally grabbed them off the dryer when he was down there. He has a daughter, it could happen. But after a week of my stuff not reappearing, and without having bumped into DN at all, I knocked on his door. DN was out of town but his teenage daughter was visiting for the day and she checked his bedroom for me when I explained that he probably picked them up by mistake and blah blah blah. She comes back a few minutes later with a folded pile of laundry with a few lacy pairs of underwear resting right on top. Just like a cherry on top of a sundae. Oh my gah. So I thanked her profusely and hurried up the steps.
When I sorted through everything though, I noticed my dress was missing. And currently, it's my favorite casual dress even though every time I wear it B tells me I like like I'm just wearing an oversized man's plaid shirt with a belt but clearly B has no sense of anything and it's awesome, just trust. I'm also missing a particular pair of underwear so unless it was the ninjas, I assume it's still in DN's apartment. I also assume that DN spends his evenings walking around in my dress, wearing my underwear, and flashing some pretty rocking stilettos because why else would he be hanging on to my dirty laundry?
I don't even know where I'm going with this post other than the fact that my neighbor is always touching my underwear and now I have to knock on his door again and ask for my dress and by the way do you have my thong?
And yes, this is the same neighbor who controls the house's heat. Asshole.