Page 29 of You'll Love it Here

“Oh god, don’t say that. I insist.” I flush, suddenly feeling like this is the end of an awkward date. I imagine dating him again. Yeah, he’s my type as far as looks go, but he seems pretty set on sticking around here.

“You can get me next time.”

I nod. “Sure.”

I grab my raincoat and head back toward the apartment. I glance at the construction site beside it with its giant wooden wall. Maybe that wall will extend across Valleyview Apartments pretty soon too. Change can be sad, but it’s inevitable. These high-rises are going up for a reason, anyway.

I fish my phone out of my pocket. There’s a new post from Lisa, with Corbin and Olivia. Caption:Work crew! This Monday was 35 hours long.

It snaps me back into the present. It’s like when I have a lot of work to do and I accidentally nod off at my desk, then snap awake feeling guilty that I lost track of time.

I like the photo and comment:Love it!

Immediately Olivia likes my comment back.

Corbin replies:Monday roundup wasn’t the same without you!

I heart his comment.

I swipe the photo away and go to the internet to search for electricians with availability this week.

The faster I get this place up to par, the faster I can make it back to Monday roundup, Tuesday drinks, and all the rest. The faster I can get my real life back.

Bottled Yellow Liquid

I’ve made it to Thursday afternoon with mixed progress.

The good: I got a package box for the lobby that seems to be working okay for Carmen’s “system” or whatever the fuck his life entails. Delivery people now have a place to throw his packages without clogging the hall, and I just have to hope I’m not enabling a drug-smuggling business.

I’ve also booked an exterminator for the basement. Soon this place will have a few less residents.

The bad: I posted to Slack days ago that the electrician was coming and we’d need tenants to let us into their apartments, and the results were dire. Only about half of the residents acknowledged that they’d be able to, while many more just straight up ignored me or asked me random shit like if the electrician can install an air conditioner while he’s around. (Nope!) My favorite reaction was from Lorna Frank (Fancy Widow), who replied to my message with:Everyone needs to stop feeding the geese because it only emboldens them, before seeming to log off for good.

The neighborhood geese are well-known assholes, so I’m pretty sure nobodywaswillingly giving them food, but I digress.

Carmen is the worst of them. His response to my message was simply:NO can do!

Of course I have a key to his place and can let myself in with proper notice, but I just know he’ll go crying to Irene if I pull something like that.

Now the electrician is here, and I’m going back and forth through the floors, knocking on doors and begging people to let me in.

I try knocking on 1A a second time. “Hello, Norm! We’re here for the scheduled electric inspection.” Still no answer. 1A Incel didn’t acknowledge my note, yet I’d held out hope since he never seems to leave the building.

Worse still, the weird funk in Norm’s corner of the hallway is only getting more pungent. Jamie, the electrician I’ve been dealing with the past hour, scrunches his nose in agreement before he taps something into his tablet that’s outfitted with a giant “war-proof” case before saying, “Another one who’s ignoring you, then?”

“Guess so.” It’s nice working with Jamie because he’s such a dickhead.

This evening, he’s already stomped his dirty shoes through my place and Irene’s (uneventful, unless you count Ernest excitedly smelling Jamie’s ankles). The first resident to let us in was Uniform Family (they had a giant puzzle in the middle of the living-room floor that warmed my cold heart). Divorced Dad also let us in but ignored us entirely, retreating into his bedroom. His place was all dark leathery furniture and a framed Flames jersey (like he’d adopted a ’90s sitcom idea of bachelor life before thinking too hard about it). Most recently, we got let into Fighting Couple’s suite. The guy (Marcus Johnson) pretended to read on his couch while watching us out of the corner of his eye, and the girl (Janine Chen) emptied a dishwasher. Slowly. The place was very basic: candles that were overly perfumed (to cover the hot dog smell?), framed “couples” photos (the type the media puts out when he murders her), and art prints from a big-box store. It started to feel like we might all be NPCs—which could explain a lot.

And now I am forced to consider these people thegoodtenants.

Because everyone else has left me in the dust. After all theircomplaining during the fire alarm, apparently we’re all just happy to do nothing and let this place burn to the ground.

I try knocking on Norm Olivers’s door for thethirdtime, because after this I’ll have no choice but to approach Carmen’s place, and his hostile response to my Slack post does not have my hopes up for a peaceful interaction.

My knuckles find a more desperate pace. I know he’s in there; he never leaves.

Right as I’m giving up hope and mentally preparing myself for Carmen’s place across the hall, Norm’s handle jiggles. I start at the unexpected motion, a surge of excitement flooding through me, followed by a sense of dread.