On Saturday evening or I suppose technically Sunday morning, the hour drew late to around three o’clock and I grew tired. I prepared to retire to my bedchambers by brushing my teeth, flossing, and turning off most of the lights in my simple abode. As I was about to crawl into bed, I heard a disturbance from out in the hallway. Was it my next door neighbour coming home? Nope, I heard him come back an hour ago and this disturbance sounded like it was right outside my door.

I stepped out of my bedroom into my unlit living room. Whatever it was definitely was happening at my door. I heard the jingle-jangle of keys as someone was trying to unlock my door but fortunately not succeeding. I suppose if I were living in the US, I could have immediately shot through my front door and killed whoever this person was in a completely legal manner. I do not live in the US, however, so instead I gingerly approached the door to look out the peephole.

I saw a slightly confused young man who appeared to be in his 20s, fumbling around with his keys, wondering why it wouldn’t open my door. I was about to open the door to let him know he didn’t live in my apartment but he took a look at the number on my door and hightailed it out of there. So it was just a case of mistaken home identity. I decided to go talk to him anyways, so I unlocked my door and walked after him.

I found him in front of the elevators where he seemed a bit tipsy and probably was inebriated to a certain extent.

“Uh, hello?”

“Oh sorry man!”

“Uh, ok”

I went back into my home, locked the door again, and went to bed. It was an innocent mistake but how did he even wind up in front of my door? The fobs in our building only allow the elevator to take you to the common floors and the floor you live on. For example, I can’t go into the elevator and then try to go up to the 35th floor. The elevator won’t let me. This dude definitely does not live on my floor because I’m a nosy SOB and I know everyone on my floor. The only thing I could think of is that he might have taken the stairs to get to my floor. While most floors are locked from the staircase side, I live on one of the “cross-over” floors where the staircase doors are unlocked to allow people to transit to the other emergency staircase in case of a blockage. He could have done that but how many drunk people do you know would choose to walk up close to 30 flights of stairs rather than take the elevator when trying to get home? Most sober people would rather take an elevator too.

Well, no harm no foul I suppose but this is a reminder that you should always lock your doors.

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