It's not that I dislike any- or everyone in the building. I just do my own thing.
We have (as many apartment buildings do) a mailroom where we get (shocking, I know, and this is really where my blog adds value to your life) our mail.
The other day I got home from work and was checking my mail (including looking for any of the near-daily Amazon packages I seem to get) when I noticed that someone had left their keys in their mailbox. I looked around to see if there was anyone near, but I was alone with this stranger's keys. The mail key was in the mailbox lock, and there was another key on the chain... which was obviously the apartment key. And obviously the key to the apartment that was numbered the same as the mailbox.
As I stared at those two keys, dangling from the mailbox, I was conflicted.
On the one hand, I didn't want to meddle. What if the person was coming down one (of the two) stairwells to retrieve their keys, even as I walked up the other stairs to return them? What if the person walked in right as I was taking the keys out of the mailbox? While I am sure I could talk around these things, it would be awkward... and while awkwardness is inherent in who I am, I don't always seek it out. (It's sort of like the thug life in that respect.)
On the other hand: what if the keys fell into the wrong hands? What if something terrible happened and I could have prevented it by simply scooping up the keys and safeguarding them until I placed them securely into the hands of their rightful owner? I might not get a parade out of it, but maybe I would sleep a little better at night, knowing I did a good deed.**
The other hand won out in this case (as it should occasionally so it doesn't feel left out of the decision-making process). I took one last furtive glance about me (which probably looked shady as fuck to anyone observing) and grabbed the keys. I marched up the stairwell and straight to the door, where I knocked.
No answer.
Of course there was no answer. It was impossible that my worry over trying to do the right thing would be ending so quickly.
I knocked again, and then went to my apartment, plotting my next move. After staving off after-work cat affections, I grabbed a stack of post-it notes and a pen and started to write.
Unfortunately, I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to say. That fact, coupled with my very sloppy penmanship, resulted in me blasting through five post-it noted before finally settling on a (rather sloppy, but not VERY sloppy) note that encouraged the apartment-dweller (who was on my floor, but not next-door) to retrieve his/her keys.
After knocking (no response) and leaving the note (it was sticky enough, but I considered using tape to help it stay (I did not)) I went back to my apartment, plotting my next move.
The cats needed attention, but I had to close the loop on the key situation. I considered leaving a note in the mailroom, but decided to email the property manager, hoping she would alleviate my concern and let the rightful key owner know what was up.
Fortunately, she emailed me back shortly thereafter, thanking me and letting me know she'd reached out to the apartment dweller. I was relieved that the odds of me getting into trouble and/or someone having to pay for being locked out of their apartment just went way down.
The person didn't pick up their keys that evening, but the next morning the property manager sent out an email letting the building know that the mailroom had been burgled*** the night before. Which is weird and coincidental and I wish it tied into my keys story a bit better, but it doesn't.****What it did, though, was justify me being a good person. Justify me overcoming my fears of being perceived as stepping on toes in the pursuit of justice. Even if the criminals would not have gone up to the third floor and used the apartment key for further burgling...***** even if someone else would have grabbed the keys before the criminals saw them... I know that my actions helped prevent that person being more exposed than they otherwise would have been.
Plus, I totally went into their apartment and looked through their nightstands.******
*Actually, I think I had a long conversation with a woman who lives in her building late one night. I was quite intoxicated, though, and I have little recollection of the chat other than that I learned that she was married.
**Actually, I sleep quite well at night. I don't actually need anything to help me sleep any better. That's not bragging... it's a straightforward admission that a sleep aid might result in me spending the better part of a week snoozing.
*** I use the verb "burgle" and all its conjugative forms as often as I accurately can. I love that word. Burgle.
**** Wouldn't it be cool, and a much more interesting blog post, if someone had stolen all of the keys as part of an elaborate heist, and they were using me as a scapegoat for the caper? I mean, it would suck for me to be framed for a crime, but it would be a better story for me to type up from prison.
***** See?
****** Just kidding.
