This building is strange.

One morning after a long night, I woke up around 10 or 11 and went to the kitchenette for some tea and Cheerios when somebody rang our doorbell. I didn’t recognize them, so I assumed they were friends of the Chinese guys, because it’s common for people to stop by to say hello. It’s a friendly building. I was wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts, and the man and woman visiting were dressed quite nicely. I didn’t know who they were, and they were in my home at an unreasonable hour so I didn’t really give a shit. I asked them if they wanted tea or anything to drink and then directed them to the Chinese guys’ room, but only Jason was home. They declined drinks, saying they were only stopping by for a minute. I noticed they spoke with a Polish accent. I sat down to enjoy my Cheerios while eavesdropping on their conversation from time to time. At one point early in the conversation I hear the girl ask something like “Do you ever think about the purpose of life? Do you wonder why we are here?”

At this point I stood up from my savory bowl of American goodness to step into Jason’s room to say “Whoah! Isn’t it a bit early in the morning for such heavy questions? You guys really mean business.” Keep in mind that I was still under the impression that these were friends of Jason and I was just making a friendly joke. Nobody even tried to force some laughter so I went back to my cereal. Then I see these people have a book in their hands and it hits me: these are the infamous Polish Jehovah’s Witnesses I’ve heard about who terrorize our building. I had inadvertently let them inside. Dammit Poland! When I realized this I helped Jason politely escort them out. Then we had a brief conversation about our religious persuasions. We both agreed that these people are strange and left it at that.

Another morning I was woken by the doorbell. I answered the door in my shorts and party glasses (yeah the pimp green shades with the lines) and it was the young girl from the building administration giving every room a box of cleaning supplies. Wow, this was cool. It had some window cleaner, dish washing soap, other random Polish chemical cleaning substances, a few strange looking cloth mats, a few rolls of reprocessed newspaper intended to be toilet tissue (I coined the term ‘ass-raper toilet paper’ to describe it), and some toilet freshening briquettes in plastic holders. I was still a little disoriented so I took it quickly and retreated to my room before they could ask for money.

One evening I had a few people over for dinner and drinks when the doorbell rang. It was an older woman from the building administration. I recognized her and was afraid she had come to collect money. Both my roommate and I had received notes to pay the rent, although it was a mistake in my case. She had a form, and despite her lacking skills in the English language, together we had deduced that she had come to inspect our furniture inventory. My roommate had just moved in so this was the standard procedure so he wouldn’t have to replace something he didn’t destroy or steal. It’s my understanding that the Spanish students often destroy property. They have a reputation as the craziest party animals.

Anyway, there were about 5 or 6 of us there having dinner and of course we all stop to watch her. And my roommate Zorro, who likes to joke, starts invoking one of our more silly and persistent jokes about our friend Anders. He introduces him, saying something like this, “This is my friend Anders, he ____________.” You can fill in the blank with any combination of the following: is Jewish, has a mother from Guatemala, is Gabriel Morgan’s cousin, is cheap. We of course find this funny under normal circumstances, but there is a woman ransacking my room, moving tables and opening drawers and cabinets to look for serial numbers. I don’t like it. Also, I have a lot of booze and I am not sure if it is allowed to have it in the building even though the rule is never enforced. She is trying to ask who lives here because we have several people in the room. Still Zorro is trying to introduce Anders (who is 100% Norwegian Atheist by the way). I’m telling him to shut the hell up out of one corner of my mouth while trying to tell the woman that Zorro and I live here. The woman is confused and thinks Anders lives here. Eventually I settled it. I had to sign some paper and she left.

Everyday is exciting. I never know what to expect.