A few weeks ago I came home and a guy I’d never seen before was standing in my lobby with a trolly of belongings—green ceramic tea cups for green tea, doormat, pillows, small wooden boxes, flowers, etc. He seemed to be moving in. We made eye contact as I walked past. It was 1 am. I held the elevator door for him when I saw him wheeling his trolly towards the elevator. When he made it in, he asked, “What floor?” I said, “I already pressed it. 6.” He pressed his floor, all the while staring at me intently, curiously. Eyes blazing. I said, “That’s an eclectic mix of things you have there.” He smiled. Then, like he knew me, asked, “So was it a good night for you?” I said, “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.” He said, “You’re like the female Steven Wright. Soooo dry.” I grinned, said, “Steven Wright, the 80s comic?” He said, “Yeah. Do you know who that is?” I said, “Yeah. You knew I was dry after one sentence?” He said, “Yeah. Totally.” My floor came and I got out. Looked back. He was still looking too. He said, “I’m Russ.” The doors closed.

Crossposted with Love Dog.