My landlady’s sons are complete brats.

I live with 3 girls. They are all really cool people. (One of knows about this blog) Especially D. She’s the coolest of them all. (Hi D!).

Anyway, there are 4 keys to the apartment. 3 are with the other three girls living with me and one is with the landlady. So I’m generally left hanging.

Last night, I went home (after standing in line at the cinema in vain and dinner) at 10pm. Nobody was home. D was at a party, R was at work and I have no idea where N was. So I rang the bell downstairs. And waited. I could hear the TV and I could hear non-TV speaking too. And I could hear the bell – It was loud and long and musical and annoying as hell. I rang the bell again and waited. It was, by then, 10.30pm and hot and humid. I was sweating buckets and the damn people inside are watching football. I knocked. Once twice three times. Now I was pissed. I pushed against the door and Voila! It was open. I went in. The TV was blaring from the bedroom and the door was open. I knocked on the door frame. The two bespectacled boy-men looked at me vaguely. I asked for the key. One of them rolled, yes rolled, off the bed and gave it to me. The other just pointed at where the key was. They didn’t even pretend that they didn’t hear the bell. “Yeah we heard it but we figured either you’d give up and go away or come in and get whatever you wanted. We are lazy bastards who don’t give a shit about the POOR GIRL WHO WAS STANDING OUTSIDE FOR HALF A FUCKING HOUR”.

Damn them.