Dear Creepy Middle-to-Old-Aged Man Who Lives in the Apartment Next Door to Me,

I know the mailboxes for our complex are on the wall right outside of my window. I know this because I sometimes like to check my mail, too! Then I take it inside of my apartment and read it.

I also know that you're old, and you need your rest, and that it must be hard for you to deal with the physical pain of moving from place-to-place (goddman joints! tell me about it!). Thus, I'm sure that the lawn chair that for some reason is sitting between my front door and our mailboxes must seem pretty appealing.

But seriously, the front door to your apartment is, like, five feet away. And I didn't buy that chair or put it there, but I'm pretty sure the patch of grass it's on is technically part of my rental agreement. And I might want to go outside and do something on that patch of grass, or perhaps something inside my apartment that makes some noise, but my window's open and you're sitting right next to it sorting through your junk mail! Seriously -- five fucking feet! Please, just hobble that marathon distance for me. Then you can lie down and have a nap.


Sincerely,

Erin