Good neighbor my butt.

Today was my first day of fasting because I was 'fortunate' enough to have my those days of the month when Ramadhan came. So everything was going great, I wasn't tired, I was cleaning the house, had the usual conversations with zee the better half and it was like any other days and surprisingly, I didn't really think a lot about food.


Aina and I got burgers for our iftar and I was just getting started on my burger when the buzzer went off. We assumed it was that kid who wants his ball back after he kicked it way too high and it ended up in our compound. So we ignored it and continued to watch an awesome Hayao Miyazaki movie. And then it went off again. So I let that 'kid' in by pressing the button on the intercom and went to the lounge to tell this kid to shove off.


And then, through the garden door, came in this tall, blonde guy, wearing a body fit short sleeved army-green shirt, with an army-green khakis pants. He was good looking. And there I was, in my faded jeans, Hard Rock t shirt and a face that might suggest that I haven't showered for days.


He had a strong Russian accent when he spoke.


This is how the conversation went (not precisely, but you get my point)


Guy : Hi there.


Me : Yes?


Guy : Hi, I live next door at number 33. I wonder if you have got any of my mail because I've been waiting for an important letter.


Me : Yea, we normally receive your mail, like your electricity bills. But we haven't got anything new today. How long have you been waiting for this letter?


Guy : About three weeks. I've asked them to resend the letter but I never got it and it has been a long time now.


Me : Who's the letter from?


Guy : The bank, Lloyds TSB.


Aina signaled me from inside to get his full name.


Me : OK, what's your full name?


Guy : *smiles* My phone number?


Me : (Dalam hati : yes, please. HAHAHA JK) No, your full name.


Guy : Stanis Masklovas (I think)


Me : OK, let me check if we've got your letters okay, and then I'll come over if I found anything.




And it turned out there were tonnes, like 10 letters addressed to number 33 that we've chucked in a Zara box outside out door. That Zara box is where we put all the letters and catalogues and magazines addressed to the previous tenants. So I think it has became a habit that we just throw anything that are not addressed to us. So I did the walk of shame to the next door and knocked on the door. So, Mr Neighbor was very grateful and I was very apologetic for not being attentive to the addresses written on the envelopes, as a good neighbor should be.


Guy : Thank you. This is like a big present to me.


You're welcome, Stanis.