Neighbors

Before my post on neighbors, I first want to say that I'm currently sucking so bad in the weekly football pool this week I may be kicked out of the running due to complete suckage.....

Yesterday while wielding the MANY boxes of to-be-assembled IKEA furniture up the stairs of my friend's new apartment building, we met two of her neighbors. In the first 30 seconds of being there we met her neighbors. I've lived in my apartment for two years and have only heard the amorous sounds of my (apparently talented) upstairs neighbor and his latest conquest. I've never spoken to any of my neighbors, I don't know their names, occupations or even what they look like. I have a cordial relationship with the contraband cat across the way who sits in the window that looks into my living room, but that's it. No I take that back, during the blackout I met the drunk Irish guy who lives in the building, but apparently in his sober moments he doesn't remember me, since the other morning when I left for work I passed him and he completely ignored me, so I'm gonna say that doesn't count. I would love to know at least the people who live on my floor, but I'm not the type of person to go knocking on doors introducing myself. I guess my building is just the anti-social, loud sex having, cat hiding haven of NYC.