Back in London, when I used to live in a flat, I had this crazy tendency to avoid the neighbours whenever I could. If I was about to leave the apartment, it didn’t matter if I was halfway through the door, if I so much as heard the sounds of their doorknobs turning, so help me, I would jump back in straight away and stay perfectly still (like I expected them to burst through my home with axes if they even suspected I was on the other side) until I could hear them entering the lift. Then I would cautiously double check that they were gone by peering out the peephole and counting to 10 because sometimes people forget stuff and they have to come back, okay?
The most uncomfortablest of times were those instances when I had to share a lift with a neighbor. I’d give an awkward ‘hi’. Maybe they’d say something about seeing me around the building. Then we’d smile at each other, glance away and wait silently until we reached the nearest floor. It’d be even worse if we both lived on the same floor, then the awkwardness would just continue until one of us managed to escape into their own home.
Sometimes, I would recognize a neighbour walking ahead of me towards our building and I’d just stroll right into the nearby convenience store, buy something, then eventually head home. It wouldn’t matter if it was freezing cold, or if I was dead tired, I’d still delay going home at that moment because I just do not like making small talk.
I’m…I’m not the only one who feels this way…am I?
