I have a very nice and easy to remember address. And the street name matches the house and apartment number very well. I give my head to cut off that in our city I have the most beautiful address and the easiest one. Just the dream of a smart mortgage! I was told at school that it was not even necessary to write it down anywhere - it was beautiful, associative, it bounces off the teeth! Only nobody knows what the wrong side of these magic numbers is.
They ring, open the door!
In our entrance, the last one in the house, there are apartments from 46 to 58, which is written on the door. And smart people found out that if you don't know exactly which apartment you need, you just need to press 55 on the intercom! There they will tell everything and will certainly open it.
I end up opening the door regularly:
- postman, locksmith, plumber;
- sellers of potatoes and carrots (inexpensively and from their own garden);
- locals who forget their keys;
- friends of local residents who do not know exactly which apartment their friends live in;
- children of local residents who forget or lose their keys and no one is at home;
- children of local residents who forget their keys, but do not want to call their apartment, because their parents are already sleeping there;
- teenagers hanging out with the children of local residents who do not want to shine in front of their parents because they think they are bad for their offspring;
- grooms of young brides who do not want to shine in front of their parents, who do not approve of the choice of their daughters;
- people who go to the chairman of the cooperative who lives in this entrance.
- people who, in principle, do not know which apartment and in which entrance they need, so they go into the extreme entrance from the road and call the most obvious apartment.
Housing problem
The best part is that it happens at any time of the day or night. Once at 3 o'clock in the morning the bell rang, and a lusting man standing on the street said in a polite voice:
"Goodnight! Please tell me which apartment Nadya lives in. "
The Irony of Fate. My Nadia has arrived. That is, to her. Well, great time for a surprise!
I have the impression that I have returned to the secretarial past with every minute calls to the reception and forwarding further through the office.
Once I went out onto the balcony to breathe, while a crowd of not too sober youth swarmed on the porch:
Well, what apartment does he live in?
I don’t remember. Call 55, they'll tell you.
I gritted my teeth and thought: if they call now, I won't open it and I won't say anything. I will pour cold water on top and sprinkle with a handful of my hatred. But nothing happened, and nobody disturbed the peace at my beautiful address.
A couple of times, the intercom was sent to a different address - more famous and less beautiful. And once they sang "Our proud Varangian does not surrender to the enemy ...". Probably a bet. Naturally, the apartment number played a decisive role in this.
All my life I have been thinking how to deal with it. And, of course, it is impossible to fight. You can only move.
© Yana Stoyanova
