The maintenance posted a notice on my door last week that they would be coming in to check the back door of my apartment today sometime between the hours of 9 am and 6pm.
Obviously, the 10 minute window that I choose to take a shower would be precisely when the maintenance guy decided to walk in.
It wasn’t as traumatizing as I thought it would be, probably because I couldn’t see much – what with the bubbled face cleanser in my eyes and shouting over the sound of water, my girly squeal and fumbling blindly for the faucet to shut the shower off.
I think it actually bothered him more than it bothered me and despite the yelling and grabbing at my towel I felt safe in the bathroom and was able to collect myself enough to holler, “Sure go ahead and check my back door.” And only later did I realize how perversely wrong and semi-pornlike is was to ask the maintenance man to check my back door while I was still dripping from my shower.
I heard him go out the back and within minutes he yelled, “It’s all good! I’ll lock up on my way out! Thank you!”
And out of habit I shouted back, “Thanks! Have a nice day!” The front door slammed and I heard the deadbolt. My eyes stung from the cleanser. I wondered then how much worse my reputation at this apartment complex could possibly get.
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