As I sit here, writing this, my apartment manager is eating his lunch on my porch. His food wrappers are on my table. I haven't invited him over.
I don't feel like b*tching at him (Hubby will be home any second now and will probably do that for me), but it's a little awkward. You see, I live on the first floor, and my porch is at ground level next to the parking lot. In order to get mowers and other tools down to the yard from the parking lot, people usually have to go across my porch to get around the landscaping. That's fine. But to take your lunch break on my table on my porch? That's got to be crossing some sort of line. At least now I think I've finally figured out how that piece of hamburger bun ended up in my plantholders the other day...
I don't feel like b*tching at him (Hubby will be home any second now and will probably do that for me), but it's a little awkward. You see, I live on the first floor, and my porch is at ground level next to the parking lot. In order to get mowers and other tools down to the yard from the parking lot, people usually have to go across my porch to get around the landscaping. That's fine. But to take your lunch break on my table on my porch? That's got to be crossing some sort of line. At least now I think I've finally figured out how that piece of hamburger bun ended up in my plantholders the other day...
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