I'm Not Joe or Max

This morning I woke to the sound of someone yelling outside my building. It started at about 6 a.m. and continued for a good 45 minutes. He'd yell out, "Joe!" then he'd yell out, "Max!" then he'd mutter to himself that this was "f*ckn' crazy". Yeah, I'd have to agree. He'd wait a little while, then do the whole thing again. And again. And again. At one point he asked if they could just open the door.

I thought about opening the door for him. However, I thought that if he didn't have a key to the outside building he likely didn't have a key to the apartment either. I didn't want him inside the building making a ruckus outside someone's door in the hallway.

Turns out, though, that someone did let him in. Which allowed him to come knocking on my door. I was in the shower when I first heard the knocking. When I got out I heard the knocking a couple times. When the knocking got louder and more insistent, I went to my door and checked the peephole that it was him. Yep.

So through the door I asked who it was. "Austin." Sorry dude, I have no idea who you are and I am not Joe or Max." He quietly apologized and left. But he didn't leave leave, because he was back to yelling for Joe and Max when I left for work.

Living downtown is awesome for lots of reasons. But it also sucks for lots of reasons.