Don't Come A Knockin'

Okay, so this is awesome. I live in Chatham Square. And the apartments in Chatham Square are nice, but have this one little flaw. The walls are paper thin. I knew this already, but this morning just kind of reaffirmed the whole concept for me. So I don't work until 12:30 today, so I was getting a little extra sleep; it's fine. (Well... I was trying to at least.) When in the middle of my dream about being an adventurer on an alligator-infested river I hear this horrible pounding noise. What the St. Francis? It was odd. But I just keep on floating down that river, and all was well. Then that pounding comes again, and I realize that someone is pounding on a door. The problem is... I can't tell if it's my door or not. It's pretty bloody loud, and it sounds a little desperate, but I still wasn't sure, so I decided to go back to sleep. It's fine. But this wretched pounding went on for about 4 more minutes. And I'm thinking to myself, "What the heck face?" Clearly they are not home. Whoever they are, they are not home. But I was home; and maybe it was my roommate who forgot her key. Or maybe... I don't even know, so I stumble out of bed, take a quick peak in the mirror, realize that I looked like a crack-whore, and go to the door, hoping that it wasn't the missionaries. I look out of the little peep-hole, and there is no one to be found. What the St. Francis? Maybe they finally left. So I open the door and look outside; there is no one to be found. Oh, but wait- the pounding continues. It wasn't even on my floor and it woke me up. I was so mad. Clearly those brick walls are a bit deceiving. (I'm pretty sure it's really just paper!) It was so freaking loud. And that bloody pounding continued for another 10 minutes. I was highly tempted to run out there and scream, "NOBODY'S HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" But that could have been awkward, so I refrained. But let this little anecdote be a lesson to you. Don't pound on the door for 1o minutes straight. Thank you, and goodnight.