Strange and at first creepy thing from yesterday: I was about to leave this place when, as a sort of habitual thing, I looked through the peephole (is that really the only word for that thing?). The cover for the PEEPHOLE often falls down, making it remotely possible that someone outside could actually step up to the door and look through to see a lens-warped version of what is going on in here — that wouldn’t be much.

But yesterday, looking through that opening, I saw a couple of people just standing there, inches away on the other side of the door. They just stood there, man and a woman, not looking particularly ominous but just there. Then I noticed that it appeared that the dude was masturbating. I did not genuinely think he was, because who the hell would do that? What kind of human male would stand outside someone’s apartment door and spank with a woman standing behind him?

I don’t know what he was doing with that repetitive motion but it wasn’t that, and seconds after I spotted these two standing there someone else appeared, and the situation became clear. They were simply standing outside the wrong apartment, and when this other person appeared everybody laughed upon recognizing what was wrong about this tiny little situation.

I remember some years ago I was sitting here when I heard someone trying to open the front door of this place. It was scary for a few seconds because whoever this was was really working the door with some urgency. I could hear keys rattling and repeated attempts being made to get in here. I looked through the PEEPEHOLE and saw a youngish looking woman who I did not recognize. I pounded my fist on the door a couple of times, causing a look of shock to take over her face. She turned and went away, going upstairs to the third floor, where moments later I heard footsteps and other noises from the apartment upstairs. She had, obviously, just spaced out and thought she was on the third floor when she was only on the second. That urgency, though, made those few seconds make me consider the possibility of just being here, doing nothing, when someone barges in and does whatever the hell there is to do here, which ain’t much.

At the Parc Lincoln (which I passed by just last week) a similar thing happened, but it was late at night, which added something to the confusion or near-hysteria of my reaction. Same as with the youngish woman above I was in room 317 at the Parc Lincoln when I heard someone wrestling with the door and locks, trying to get into my room. I looked through the PEEPEEEHOLE and saw an elderly woman, very thin, trying her damndest to get into my room. I pounded the door a couple of times, alerting her that someone was in here, and she understood the code, recognizing that she was at the wrong room. As happened here, a few minutes later I heard footsteps and noises from the room upstairs from me. I spent some time thinking about how an elderly woman was living in a room that was probably identical to mine, with no toilet and where pigeons barged in during the hot summers. Maybe she was happy there, but I know I never was.