When you live in a big city you usually don't get to know your neighbors. I've lived in three other flats before this one and I certainally never got to know anyone until I moved to Brixton. I've been thinking lately that maybe that's not a bad thing
About a month back Matthew and I were in the flat unpacking. Out of the blue we had a knock on the door. We both just sort of stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other. We had no idea who would be knocking on our door. My first thought was that maybe we had the music up too loud and it was a neighbor coming to ask us to turn it down.
Turned out that it was the lady across the hall coming round to pay us a visit. She introduced herself briefly before pushing past Matthew to enter the flat to have a look around. I will say that she isn't in her right mind, but is very friendly. She was wearing a bathrobe with no sash and nothing underneath! She was kind enough to adjust it from time to time when she noticed that it had come too far open.
Once inside the flat, Marcia, asked if she could have a cold drink. This request really caught me off guard. It's just a bit strange to have some invite themselves in and then demand a cold drink. I poured a glass of water as she walked across the room to sit herself down at the kitchen table.
Turns out she was in a mental hospital for a while when she was living over in America and that she also suffers from vicious pain after falling off a bus. We sat and chatted for a spell before I told her that we needed to finish unpacking and would it be all right if I walked her back to her flat?
I didn't bother me that she came over. I think she must be pretty lonely living on her own. It was just so unusual. She's been back a few times since then, for much shorter visits. She usually isn't interested in talking to me if Matthew isn't around. That could be because Matthew usually will giver her a few pounds.
Sometimes she'll knock on the door once we've come home and we just ignore it. Although she'll knock for ages since she knows we're in. After several minutes of repetitive knocking she takes a hint.
We also have neighbors who live downstairs......these people like to shout and row a great deal. They aren't the kind of neighbors people are excited about having. They have two small children who when they're not being yelled at by their parents are out playing naked in their filthy garden.
I can see their garden from my bedroom window and it's just a complete pit. Littered with junk and bicycle wheels. Not a nice place for kids to play at all. Plus they've got a dog who digs up everything in the yard, which is why I am guessing it's just all dirt back there now.
I had a bad feeling about these people when we first came to look at the place. Their window blinds were all bent and crazy looking...which I took to be a bad sign. In some ways I feel really back writing about these people,like I am betraying their privacy or maybe I am just scared they'll find this post and start knocking on my door. Although I seriously doubt that, I get the feeling that they wouldn't even know what a blog is. They are pretty horrible and I feel bad for the kids.
The man and woman had a big fight today. Crazy swearing and some pretty filthy things were said, with lots of door slamming in between. Sigh......
I just try to ignore them and get on with it. I love my flat and hope things don't get worse. We'll see how it goes. Marcia has asked if we'll get her some tshirts in America. She calls me beautiful Yankee girl :) We'll bring some back for her, to make up for the times when we don't answer the door :)
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