After living in our current Chicago apartment for two years this month, I've made a startling revelation: I really know nothing about our neighbors.
I do know the name of one, it's Kai. But she's a two-pound Yorkie. I also know one of my neighbors is likely in medical device sales, but that's only because I started Googling the companies from which he receives daily packages from, because I was worried he might be making a bomb. I also know the man who lives next door to us is not paying his student loans, because debt collectors called us asking if we could help encourage him to pay. Yeah, right federal government.
Yep, that's it. Until this happened.
I took some of our recyclables to the 2nd floor recycling bin when I saw this. It's the packaging for a fantasy bondage swing! The box was big too, so these neighbors are not messing around (well, clearly they are). Here is what I immediately thought (in this order):
1) Wow, we have some very kinky neighbors
2) At least they recycle
The crazy thing is (other than trying to wear those shoes) is that they didn't even try to hide it! The box was right there on top of egg cartons and plastic bottles. I posted the photo on Facebook and got some great reactions. One said, "Now you need to mess with them by asking if you can come over and hang around." (Awesome Kevin) Another said, "Asking them to keep it down will never be the same." (Touche James).
Funny enough, I never hear our neighbors because it's a very quiet building. I used to hear the L train every 5-10 minutes, but like any Chicagoan, I hardly notice anymore. I occasionally hear a loud bang, which I convince myself is a car backfiring or fireworks, not a gun shot. But that's it. I definitely don't hear what I can only imagine comes from a device like this.
Of course, this discovery has given my some great punch lines. When Mike texted the other day to ask what I was doing, I said, "Oh, I'm just hanging out at the neighbors."
I do know the name of one, it's Kai. But she's a two-pound Yorkie. I also know one of my neighbors is likely in medical device sales, but that's only because I started Googling the companies from which he receives daily packages from, because I was worried he might be making a bomb. I also know the man who lives next door to us is not paying his student loans, because debt collectors called us asking if we could help encourage him to pay. Yeah, right federal government.
Yep, that's it. Until this happened.
I took some of our recyclables to the 2nd floor recycling bin when I saw this. It's the packaging for a fantasy bondage swing! The box was big too, so these neighbors are not messing around (well, clearly they are). Here is what I immediately thought (in this order):1) Wow, we have some very kinky neighbors
2) At least they recycle
The crazy thing is (other than trying to wear those shoes) is that they didn't even try to hide it! The box was right there on top of egg cartons and plastic bottles. I posted the photo on Facebook and got some great reactions. One said, "Now you need to mess with them by asking if you can come over and hang around." (Awesome Kevin) Another said, "Asking them to keep it down will never be the same." (Touche James).
Funny enough, I never hear our neighbors because it's a very quiet building. I used to hear the L train every 5-10 minutes, but like any Chicagoan, I hardly notice anymore. I occasionally hear a loud bang, which I convince myself is a car backfiring or fireworks, not a gun shot. But that's it. I definitely don't hear what I can only imagine comes from a device like this.
Of course, this discovery has given my some great punch lines. When Mike texted the other day to ask what I was doing, I said, "Oh, I'm just hanging out at the neighbors."
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