The Guy from Apt. #631

I finally met the source of the noise coming from next door: my new neighbor. I was so surprised to see him at my front door that I didn’t catch his name. It wasn’t that I was caught off guard; it’s that he appeared, shirtless, and it wasn’t a pretty site. The dude had a bigger rack than I have!

He seems like a nice enough fellow. He was asking me about my air conditioner. I’m the only one on the second floor with A/C and his son is going to install a wall unit for him.

His son was a smaller version of him, but not by much. The saddest part was that he was sporting one of those Michael Jordan silhouette tattoos. You know, like that guy on Dog the Bounty Hunter. I wonder when the guy (and the guy from The Bounty Hunter) first regretted that tattoo choice. I went into a tattoo parlor when I was in college and there was a guy getting a tattoo of Taz, from Looney Toons, holding two mugs of beer. What a dumb ass.

That's the reason I never got a tat, not 'cause I was scared of the pain, but because I couldn't think of anything I liked enough that I would want it on my body for the rest of my life.

That’s not where I was planning on going with this post, but oh well. I got nothing else. Jazz hands!