"Bruce was just on the phone with me and he wants our combination to the lock so he can latch the door ...."
"Okay ... wait ... Bruce? Who is Bruce and what door are we talking about?"
"Sorry. Bruce lives below us at the beach condo and apparently the workmen left the door to the supply closet unlatched when they were sandblasting the floors and now it's banging against the railing so he wants me to give him our front door combination so he can go into our unit and close it."
"I don't even know Bruce. Was he the guy who came upstairs when Lee and her friends were staying there to tell them they were too noisy when they moved the furniture?"
"Yep he's the one. Actually it was Bruce's wife. She gave Lee those little adhesive furniture feet cushion things to put on the chairs."
"Nazis! No I don't want him to go into our condo without us. I'll drive over there now and do it myself."
I was steaming at this point.
That's right. It was latched! Locked and NOT swinging against the railing. I called Deb and told her about that rotten *#*#!! neighbor who had me drive all the way over there ... that's okay ... I'll tell him myself.
I went down to their condo unit and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. I BANGED ON THE DOOR ...
"Hi. I'm your neighbor from upstairs. Is ... um ... Bruce here?"
"Oh no ... he isn't here now."
"Are you Bruce's wife?"
"Yes". Her eyes were like big saucers and the headphones now rested on her shoulders.
"Well ... I just checked on the door that Bruce called my wife about and it is latched."
"Yes ... we know."
"Oh heavens yes. We called the construction company and they climbed up on the scaffolding to lock it up. It made such a racket."
"Did you know that I was coming?"
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I mean to tell me that you already called the construction company."
"I don't really know."
I just stood and stared for a few seconds and finally said thank you ... I think ... I didn't know what else to say. Poor thing would have had a heart attack if I said what I wanted to say.