His latest kick is to knock on my door, and not answer when I say ‘hello?’ Several times in a row. .. and then look startled when I look irritated.
I already know its him. But let the stupidity begin.
I open the door. Crazy morning hair. More cleavage than he was expecting and a look of pure irritation. “YES??”
“Oh. I am terribly sorry.” He looks past me. “It’s very smokey in there.”
“I was cold. I started a fire in the bathtub.” I don’t smile. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, no. I was just passing by.”
“No. I live on the end of the row. You were being nosy.”
He looked nervous. “Uh, well, Mr Fisher said he heard voices–”
“– he should speak to a doctor about that…”