There are many people in my building that I don't know and never will know. Some of them live here so briefly that I don't even have time to see them, much less time get to know them. I know more people in my half of the building of course, there being so few opportunities to interact with those on the other side of the building.
I know the people on my half of the seventh floor best of all. This isn't to say that I speak with all them, or even know all of their names, but for those I don't know by name there's the building gossip to rely upon.
At the end of the hall there's the mentally disabled guy. I believe he's older than myself. He lives with a still older mother who takes care of him, and the two of them haven't been renting their apartment for very long. The most exciting thing in the mentally disabled guy's life seems to be the arrival of the garbage truck each evening. As he waits for the garbage truck he likes to yell at the building's security guard to "get ready," though what "getting ready" means no one can say with any certainty.
I see him pedaling his bike around town a lot, and sometimes he'll even wear his helmet outside when he's not bicycling. He owns a pair of bright orange board shorts when he's at home "chilling," and when he goes out he wears a well-worn pair of jeans. Occasionally I'll feel sorry for his mom. He's exhausting to be around.
Between the mentally disabled guy and our apartment live a couple with a dog. The female half of this couple works at the Social Services Building on Boai Road, across from the Athletic Stadium. I'm not sure what her husband (boyfriend?) does for a living, though I suspect it's something outdoors. Their dog is an extremely timid animal, and I often forget they have one.
On the other side of the elevator from us is a retired professor. What he was a professor of I have no idea. He's an extremely reserved person, but also exceedingly polite. He's often away from home and has family in Taipei.
Next to the professor is "Weird Guy," an over 80 year old man who sometimes works on construction sites, sometimes serves as a taxi driver. I've had many issues with Weird Guy over the years, but not as many as some other people in the building.
My wife is known in the building as "the Weird Guy whisperer." Whenever someone has a problem with Weird Guy they'll usually tell my wife first, and then she'll pass on their message to him.
I used to nurture a strong dislike for Weird Guy, but now I just feel sorry for him. He's really not able to take care of himself, and it seems that no one else wants the job. When he cooks it stinks up the entire floor, his apartment smells bad even when he's not cooking, and he's recently started wetting himself on the elevator ride down to the first floor. At first we couldn't figure out why his garbage bags kept leaking in the elevator, and then we realized that he was using these leaks as a way of covering up the pee he'd left behind him.
At the other end of the hall, on the other side of Weird Guy, is my favorite neighbor. I forget where she's working now, but she's a very kind person who's also been a good friend for many years. On summer vacations past she's helped us watch our cats, and I definitely trust her more than any of my other neighbors.
With regard to the rest of my building I'm less informed of other people's doings, though a few neighbors stand out against the background of people I see in the elevator once and never again. There's the lady who thinks she needs to "call the elevator up," (press up to go down), there's the building association manager, a devout Christian who uses her position in very gangster-y ways, and also the woman on the first floor, a very lonely person who's invested in the building gossip to an unhealthy degree. I could share a lot of stories about these people, but sharing some of these stories would probably get me into trouble.
So many people, coming and going all the time. Some of them we call friends, others we tolerate, and still others we don't have either the time or inclination to know. In each apartment building a tiny universe of dramas and disappointments, each apartment building a part of towns or cities near and far.
Sometimes people say they're lonely, but how can we be lonely, surrounded as most of us are by so many other people?
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