I have never been a firm believer of dating people that you live in a building with. Sure, it’s convenient and you never have to worry about who will feed your cat, but really, do you really want to know about what a person you are dating is doing all the time? Depends on the type of person you are, but for me, sometimes I think knowing too much about a possible ex boyfriend could lead to your demise. This is the case and point with me.

There is a guy that lives a few doors down from me, let’s call him Nigel. Nigel and I would run into each other, flirt and make eyes as we were passing each other on the stairwell. One morning I awake to find a note under my door, it’s from Nigel with his phone number. Normally, I would find this strange and stalker-ish but the little schoolgirl still inside me found it adorable. I play it cool. I wait a few days to call him. After several games of phone tag, we decide to meet. I’m actually excited. Nigel is one of those guys that reminded me of high school crushes, he was 6’4 and rugged. A jock through and through with his five o’clock shadow and white t shirt, I took Nigel for a high school quarter back who drove a pick up truck. And after talking to him, I found out I was right. I was the weird girl with pink hair and rosary beads around my neck. He was the type of guy that would pick on me, calling me a freak but secretly wanted to bang me after he won all the all-state championship.

After hanging out, he calls me every day. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. Especially when he does the whole, “Hi it’s me.” Hi, it’s me? That’s horribly presumptuous. Considering the fact that I don’t know my own mothers voice how will I know yours? Another thing he tells me is that he has cable. I don’t have as much as channel two. He tells me that this might be trouble considering that I might get addicted to his cable and start spending long stretches of time on his couch. Again, presumption. This was more along the lines of a player narcissist. We hang out one other time at his apartment and we kiss a bit, nothing short of innocent. It’s about 7 in the evening and Nigel owns a bar. Men that own bars always get laid, always. I casually tell him that I’m sure there are tons of girls that come in and out of his apartment. He blushes at that remark and tells me that he works too much to have such a busy schedule with the ladies. He wants to see me. There is no one else. Something in my gut tells me otherwise.

Not even twenty-four hours later I’m talking with the apartment manager in the hall and Nigel appears with a svelte Asian girl wearing his clothes. Normally, I would think nothing of this. If he was honest, this would have not been horribly OK, but it would have been easier to take. Seeing the girl and him look me as he casually walked by is one of the reasons I have almost given up on humanity as a whole. He owed me nothing, he didn’t have to lie about his escapades but he did. It’s the situation in general. And to top it off, I live in the building. Hello! This is like shitting in your own pool. Note to all; if you are going to pursue someone in your building and want someone on the side, be a bit more discreet.

So, I felt like I was back in high school. I was still the girl that the jocks would do almost anything to get in the back of their pick up truck. I wonder if we have really evolved as a people that we can't just fess up? Sometimes I just wish I could go back to those old days and bang the quarterback. No, no I don't. I would still laugh at him and I'm still laughing at him now.