Won't you please my neighbor?

Yesterday I met my neighbor to the right, the one who's not a middle-aged Indian woman. I hate meeting my neighbors because I always assume they overhear embarassing things like when I sing and dance in my apartment or when I play video games for 5 hours straight on a sunny Saturday afternoon or (for shame) when I am scouting X-Tube seeing if I can find anyone I know.

So I was looking in my man-bag for my keys when this guy comes up behind me and is all "Hey, you live here?" and I thought CRAP i'm getting robbed or else this is that guy from the summer who was convinced I flooded his apartment even though I don't live above him and I'd have to flood my own apartment for that to happen, and I'd remember that.

Anyway it wasn't either of those things. Instead, it was this attractive 20-something boy in a tie and sport coat. He had light brown eyes and curly hair and kinda rosy cheeks, and I decided he must go to the gym 3.5 times a week, and he is my neighbor and has been for about 2 months, which explains why I haven't heard that horrible yapping dog in about that long. I noticed he was wearing black socks with brown shoes, and they were ugly shoes, so I wasn't surprised when he mentioned a girl coming to live with him in a month. So hopefully he and the girl will have frequent sex so I won't feel guilty about my midnight Pat Benatar cravings anymore. I always pray for neighbors to have sex just because it breaks down that barrier and allows me to live my sometime-kinda-loud life without guilt or embarassment. If anyone ever complains, I can always bust out the "You only last for 3 minutes" or "You like your girlfriend to strap it on" or "You sing the songs from Cats while you're fucking" to put them back in their place.

It's fun to have a sexy neighbor and it's fun to know that I'm not the only person under 35 living on the Upper East Side.... except that his apartment is bigger because he has a bedroom, and I imagine he wears a tie to work because he makes more money than me, so I kinda still feel alone.

I told him to let me know if he ever needed anything like milk or sugar or oral sex, but something tells me I won't see him until he's moving out in 10 months. That seems to be how it goes in my building.