So I just moved into a GREAT, AMAZING building,and it's extremely unsettling. On one hand, I feel like I'm living in a movie - or even Sex and The City (I should explain, I'm not even a big fan, but lets just say I live in a Charlotte building in a Miranda neighbourhood, and you'll get it) - I get up, I go to my private bathroom, I feel like I should be taking fresh squeezed OJ (non-existent) on my terrace with an AWESOME view (okay, exists, and I luuuuuurve it) in my marabous (that's the British term for those feathery slippers, um, excitable housewives wear, I don't know if it translates) and then just lolling on my couch rejecting my multitudinious gentlemen callers with a languid wave of my lily-white hand. That is how f...... AMAZING my place is.
But I feel - well in all honesty I don't know. It is brand new, and like a movie. But I started this post 'cos as I came home at 5:15am, my doorman was asleep. I have a key, I used it; he woke up and RAN to the door, all 'I wasn't asleep, I wasn't asleep!' It's not like I'm going to tell anyone - before I moved in he surely had at least four hours uninterrupted from three til seven. SLEEP - I can open a door myself.
Having a doorman is so weird, it's almost like having a surrogate dad. They know what time and with who you come home... You get away with nothing.
So The one friend who has seen the place (Divorced Guy), when I spoke to him about my doorman thing, was like -'you are rich. it's a fact of life. you don't even see them'. I absolutely NEVER want to be that person.
I will make them my allies. And I will make George let me in myself so he can sleep.
I am SOOO not rich by the way. But I am living like a rockstar.
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1 comment:
Sounds like a really nice place. You should just enjoy it and not feel guilty. And that's really sweet about how you want to let the doorman sleep. I'd do the same thing, probably, if I ever lived in a doorman building.
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