“He kept to himself…”

I just moved to a new apartment 6 months ago. There’s lots of old people here. I think it might be a senior center. That explains the cheap rent. Anyway, I have not talked to my neighbors once. One neighbor has left me chocolates, and a Christmas card. They really want to talk to me. I don’t like people. Does that seem weird from someone who talks to people for a job?

Crowds have rules. You don’t get to talk when I talk, and if you do, I kick you out, and I get to make fun of you. It’s a monologue. You get to pay attention to what I have to say and I’m important. After the show, you get to say “keep it up!” and I know you mean well, but I hate you.

Why do you meet neighbors? What’s the best that’s gonna happen? She’s gonna tell me about her plants? “Ohh you’re a comedian. Remind me to tell you a few jokes from back in my day!” Look I’m sure you were hilarious in the old days, making beer in your bathtub. I just don’t want to have that conversation.

Nothing against old people but there’s a certain point where they stop becoming useful. They’re just taking up space and you feel bad. There’s a sweet spot of old and wise. I want to be like tell me everything you know. They get all sage and have a tobacco pipe.

Anyway, the other night I had a girl over, and like a gentleman, I walked her to her car at 7am. Right as I opened the door, there was one of my neighbors walking her dog. I felt pretty embarrassed, but then I thought that probably painted me in a more positive light. They’re like “Oh. He’s not a serial killer.”