Neighbor Peter

I for one am glad the Oscars are over. It’s so hard not being in the main industry of your city. [singlepic id=215 w=320 h=240 float=right]If I worked in New York, I’d feel right at home in banking, but here in L.A. all anyone talks about is the entertainment business. And as you can tell from previous posts, I have issues with celebrity culture and narcissistic behavior. So I look forward to the Oscars being over every year so the decibel level can return to normal.

On to talking to strangers. I have a new next door neighbor. I never really spoke to the previous occupant of the apartment next to me, even though we sort of share a balcony. So when that guy moved out, I decided to make a friends with the new neighbor.

This weekend, the movers came and a dude named Peter moved in. He’s a little younger than me and works for Verizon (in corporate sales, not the cell phone store). Anyway, I came up with a plan and here’s how it went down.

Side note first. A lot of my ideas would never work without a girlfriend (or fiancée) at my side. It would just be too weird to be a single guy doing some of the shit I do because women generally think I’m trying to hit on them and guys think I’m gay. So having a girl there makes everything so much easier. You’ll see what I mean when you hear what I did.

I waited till the moving trucks left then knocked on the door with Michelle. Peter opened it.

I said, “Hi, I’m Fletcher, your next door neighbor. We share a balcony. This is my fiancée Michelle. So anyway, we wanted to welcome you to the apartment complex and make you feel at home.”

He looked down, a little confused. He asked, “Is that for me?”

I smiled. “Yup. We baked you a cake.”

It’s true. We totally baked this dude a cake. It was so worth it just to see the look on his face. Like, what the hell kind of apartment complex is this?

After he got over the initial shock, he invited us in and we chatted for a little while. I gave him pointers on where things are in the neighborhood (he moved from West Hollywood) and gave him my number. Oh, and he cut the cake so we all had some.

Anyway, that’s about it. We left, went back home, and watched the stupid Oscars.