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Monday, June 06, 2005

A Rather Bizarre Way To While Away A Sunday Evening

I have a new upstairs neighbour. About a month ago, the woman who had been living there moved out. I waited to see who her replacement would be. Yesterday I found out when, at about nine o'clock in the evening, there was a knock at the door, and my new neighbour introducing himself.

This surprised me. I mean, it's a very nice thing to do, but it's not usually done in the flats in which I live. I've been here since October 2000, and in that time have come to the realisation that only deeply unsociable people live here (I include myself in that classification).

So this knock at the door was a surprise. So too was what followed - an invite to a little social gathering of residents he was having upstairs. Following the Good Mental Health Rules, I took him up on the invite, even though I was feeling more like crawling into bed.

So upstairs I go, expecting to find a gathering of all residents. What it turned out to be was my landlord, a couple of his mates, the resident, and my next door neighbour. All were plastered, but I was touched by the invite, which I believed was down to my (always lovely) landlord.

What ensued was watching these drunken lads behave like a bunch of teenage boys when their parents are away for the weekend. Prank phone calls ensued, most amusingly to a variety of prostitutes in the South London area. Strangely, many had answering machines on. I wouldn't have thought of 10pm on Sunday night as a peak time for prostitutes. Obviously I was wrong.

I actually had a surprisingly entertaining evening in the company of this bunch of drunken blokes. Although I've seen a whole other side of my previously quiet next door neighbour... The man can drink.

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