There’s a party brewing in the building. Sounds fun, right? But what do you wear? What do you bring? How much do you drink? I’ve never lived in a building. And not one that had parties. To meet strangers. And, the median age in this place is 89, unless you’re gay. Then you’re hot, and rich, but not my type. At least that is a sign there will be good wine…

The building is getting busier and busier. That should also be good, but so far only means less parking, more people enjoying my roof, less room in the elevator, longer waiting for the elevator, and more people looking at me funny in the gym when I sing out loud. Oops.

So those will be the people I’m meeting. The ones that don’t talk in the elevator, the guy that parks in my spot – who I won’t be able to determine unless I go around asking people what they drive – which I’m considering!– etc. I’m bringing Two Buck Chuck.

I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.

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