I walked to the front door. I knocked. Knowing the music would be turned down so I knocked again and said, “Hello, this is Mark from the front office.” They always open the door for the front office. I know this from experience from Carmel telling me that she had someone from the office come over. They knocked on their door and they opened it. Steve told them he was adjusting the bass.

     As I was crossing the street I kept thinking, “should I show them who I am or just leave the mask on?” I decided that I want to get the full effect. Steve opened the front door. I know I sound mean but, when he opened the door and he saw the black mask I thoroughly enjoyed watching his dead eyes get very alive.

I pulled my mask up and said, “Hey Steve!”

 Joe heard Steve’s gasp and looked around the corner from the bathroom area.

I said, “Hey Joe!”

     I turned my attention back to Steve and said “I really tried to be nice to you. I tried to be nice to you and do the right thing. But, now I have to do the other thing.”

      I pulled out a kitchen knife. I like this brand. It’s advertised as professional quality stainless steel with a cutting edge nonstick coating that makes slicing easier. I was counting on that.

     I then pulled my mask back down, grabbed Steve firmly by the back of the head and I’ll leave out the gory bits. But, now he has an actual reason to have those dead eyes. Ha-ha

    I closed the door. With the music still thumping I then ran towards Joe. He closed the bathroom door and screamed, “Please don’t kill me!” I kicked the door in. Places with paper thin walls tend to have doors that seem to be made out of cardboard boxes.

    Joe screamed again, “Please, don’t kill me. Help me! Someone Help Me!”

    Joe was standing in the shower holding a bar of soap. If you had ever met Steve and Joe you wouldn’t know they actually owned a bar of soap. Never mind used one. He threw it at me. Goodness.

    Joe said, “Someone will hear me and come!”

   I said, “No one will hear you over that thumping. So, please, continue screaming.”

    And then I sent Joe to the everlasting shower in the sky. Maybe, I shouldn’t make assumptions that he or Steve will actually go towards the light. I have a feeling they’ve been such shits in this life that they may now be playing hide and seek with satans little helpers. 

   Okay, maybe they will go to the great beyond and be shown the errors of their ways and be sent back to earth to be given another chance to become “good people”.

  Nahh, they’re fucked. Ha-ha 

    I turned the music off. Took a look around for a minute. The mess was indescribable. I always say like attracts like. They were equally disgusting.

    I went back the way I came into the complex. Back into the market, grabbed a bag of groceries from Gloria, so that the cameras would see that I actually did go for a reason. Got back into my apartment, put my groceries away. There really were groceries in there. A nice bottle of red, blue cheese and a nice steak. Didn’t Gloria do well?

I sat back down, had a sip of wine, a bite of cracker and responded to Maggie. She isn’t the prettiest of people. But, she seems simple, normal and interesting.

   As I explained earlier, the walls are like a piece of paper. On one side of the wall is the parking lot. On the other of the paper lie Steve and Joe. When I was first assigned to this squalor of a complex, I didn’t hear anything. And one night the music started. I can’t even say it began as a low hum and then went up from there. It just started and ended in loud horrendous thumbing bass. It began at 10 pm and went until 10:30. At that time I thought to myself, that it was a one-off thing and it can’t surely be a normal thing. Until it started again at 3:30 AM!  As much as I wanted to scream and bang on the wall I had to remember that I am on assignment. It doesn’t pay to bring attention to yourself. So, I let it go.

   Two days later when I was sitting at my laptop, having my morning cappuccino and it began. Thumping. It was 10:30 AM!!  Who in the hell is even home to listen to anything like that in the morning?  I thought to myself that if I’m a “regular person” living here what’s unusual about a “regular person” knocking on the door of ones neighbor and asking politely to please turn the music down? So I did. What met me at the door was a thin dead-eyed young man who looked to be no more than 20 standing there with no shirt, dirty wrinkly khaki walking shorts hanging at least 6 inches below his underwear. Good Lord.

   I tried to take a quick look around.  I could make out a large bed and the kitchen. I’m not sure how he managed it but, the place was absolutely pitch black. How did he get it to be this dark at this time of the morning? It was June and sunny as hell outside. Somewhere, in the dark of night in the day time, I heard someone say “who is it?”

  That was Joe. How did I know it was Joe? Because Steve said, “How the hell do I know Joe?”

I said, “Hi, my name is Brad.”  I think Brad is a nice fake name. It’s simple and easy to remember.

 Steve said, “I’m Steve”

I said, “I just moved in next door. Do you think you could please turn your bass down, just a wee bit?”

With his signature dead-eyed expression, Steve said “ugghh sure.”

I said, with a big smile and overly enthusiastic neighborly, “Thanks so much. And if you ever hear my tv turned up too loud, please feel free to let me know!”

Steve said, “ugghh sure.” With that, the door closed in my face. I felt successful in my pretense of being a “regular person” that all went well. 

    Part of my career training was on body language and facial expressions.  From Steve’s bored as hell expression I knew damn well that wasn’t the end. But, I was busy keeping a low profile and learning how to get in and out of where I needed to be in a week’s time.

   Two evenings later I had just gotten back from surveillance. I was standing outside of my horrible rental when a pretty girl walked  by and said “Hi” 

  I said, “Hi. My name is Brad and I’m new in town. Do you know of anywhere to get something good to eat? I’m feeling like something different. No burgers or anything like that.”

She said, “Nice to meet you, Brad. My name’s Carmel. There’s a good Turkish place on Broadway. It’s called, ‘Taste of Kofte’. I love Turkish food. I may be going to Turkey to teach English in a few months.”

I said, “Thank you, Carmel. As I said I just moved into this town and complex. I know it’s not nice to say but, I didn’t think there was any actual culture or good food.

Carmel said, “I know. The place is a bit of ummm well. It’s a place. Some of the people are actually very nice. Then there are the others. I live in number 37 and the two guys next to me are just creepy and loud.”

I said, “I live in number 35. I had the pleasure of meeting both Steve and Joe.” 

Carmel said, “I’m sorry. I keep thinking they’ll leave. But, they never do. Anyway, I’ll leave you alone to go and have dinner. It was nice to meet you, Brad.”

I said, “It was nice to meet you to Carmel. Hopefully, Steve and Joe will leave and it’ll be nice and quiet for us both.”

   That week came and went. During that week I saw Carmel a few times as well. She looked tired and sad. She said that the noise had gotten her down from next door. I had to knock on Joe and Steve’s front door at least four times. They stopped coming to the door by the fourth time. I then took to banging on the wall. I hate Steve and Joe more than I thought I could actually hate two people that live next door. I realized by the third time I banged on the front door and heard the whispering, as the music went down and then up again, that this was a game.

  During this time, I also completed my assignment, expertly of course. I didn’t leave town. That would look too obvious. When certain assignments are completed it’s best to stay in the area. There tends to be a lockdown. No coming and no going.

 Since I had some down time I decided that maybe I’ve been alone too long. Maybe, it’s time for me to, at least, meet a nice girl. Smart, kind, funny.

     Training was incredible. I was picked up by a limousine and taken to a private plane. We landed on an island somewhere in the Pacific. You’ll excuse me if I don’t go into too much detail. It’s not as if what I do is a regular job. As the joke goes, “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you” ha-ha 

       I have to say that I enjoyed every moment of it. Getting up before dawn, running, target practice, practical out in the field training, camaraderie of fellow recruits and the new lifelong friendships I’ve made.  The new skills that I have learned made me the man that I knew I always was. A good and righteous man that always does the right thing. Until I have to do the other thing. 

      As per usual, I ended up being in the top 10 percent of the new trainees. It has been more than 10 years and I am still very proud of that accomplishment.  I have been on many assignments, traveled to every continent and rid the world of many of what we in my career field call “unsuitables.”

“Unsuitables” are exactly what they sound like.   I am specifically trained for one thing. I, like my colleagues, are sourced out to get rid of problematic “unsuitables.” 

      At this very moment, I am on assignment in a major city. It’s actually about 15 minutes from where I grew up. I am staying in a large apartment complex. From the outside, it looks like an old hotel. But, I was told by management, that it has always been apartments. It’s not the type of place that I’m used to. I am typically moved into a beautiful luxury hotel suite with all mod coms and 24-hour room service, masseuse on call, a sparkling Olympic sized pool and a very fast European sports car to drive.

     Here, the walls are paper thin and I am sure that the only thing that separates me from my upstairs neighbor is a plank of wood. My neighbors, on the other side of the paper wall, have no courtesy when it comes to noise levels. 

     I’m almost directly across from the pool. On a hot day, I see people go in and never come out. They’re in there all day. Someone may bring them drinks and food. But, they just don’t leave the pool. Therefore, I’m sure the pool has been used as a public toilet. And,  I’ve been given something to drive that I’m sure won’t pass a smog test. 

    This place is why they made the sad-faced emoji.

     I can’t say that it’s been all bad though. There are people here that I will honestly miss when my assignment is finished. There’s Pam that lives upstairs. I met Pam, one morning, coming down the stairs right out front of my place. I knew it had to be her because I could hear something rolling across my ceiling and followed the noise to the front door, heard the front door close behind them. It was Pam. She was wheeling down a small suitcase. I asked her if I could be of any help. She screamed, “Stop trying to steal my bag!”  I was taken aback a bit.  I assured her that I was only being a gentleman.  She finally stopped trying to hit me with her purse. She scowled at me, hissed the word “freak” and walked to her car. 

     I then met Larry. He’s told me he’s lived here for the past 10 years. I tried to not look shocked. I swear I can’t do 10 months here. He knows everything and everyone’s business. I’m not the sort of person to enjoy sitting around gossiping. But, I need to fit in and I did learn all about my next door neighbors. Steve and Joe.

     I hate Steve and Joe.

    Well hello there. My name is Jack. I’m 30 years old, 6 feet and swimmers physique. I’ve always been very athletic.  I’m originally from a small college town in California. The town has less than 50,000 people that live there on a full-time basis. It is mostly comprised of students. To get into the university you have to be, as I had always been told, smarter than smart. I can’t say that I’ve ever really enjoyed school.  But, I did get into the university. I’ve always excelled in everything that I’ve done.  I was always in the top ten percent in school. I was valedictorian at my high school graduation. I was accepted to every, in my nonhumble opinion, a university that counted.  I lasted one semester.

     One day, as I walked to my least favorite class, I was approached by a rather unassuming man in a black suit and very expensive patent brogues.

Suit man said “Hello Jack”

I said, “I’m sorry, you have the wrong person.”

Suit man said “No. Your name is Jack. You grew up on Middlebrook Lane and your parents are Phil and Jane.” 

     He then proceeded to tell me all about myself. From my academics to my umm slightly unfortunate run in’s with people that have resulted in, we’ll say leaving them a bit bruised and battered. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a good person. I only fight when I find myself in a predicament that leaves me no other solution. I have always tried to do the right thing. But, sometimes the right thing just isn’t enough. Some people just don’t understand that there are consequences to their actions. They’re so selfish and don’t think about anyone but themselves. So, when the right thing doesn’t work, I do the other thing.

 Apparently, suit man knew all about this. He asked, “ would you like to go and have a coffee and a chat?”

I said, “I have a class to get to.”

 Suit man, “Jack we both know you don’t like the class. Or school.” He continued, “we have been watching you for a while. With your intelligence, athleticism and aggressive or shall I say stern nature we believe you would be an excellent choice for an opening in our company.”

  I met with suit man on Saturday. I dropped out of school on Monday.  On Tuesday, I explained to my parents that I have been offered an excellent opportunity to use the skills that I already have. With their non- blessing and my father’s threats to cut me out of the will, that my mother said he hadn’t written yet. My mother explained that father believes that if he writes a will he’ll wake up the next day with a fatal disease. With that, I left for training on Wednesday.

   I stopped by my basic mechanics class.  I have been helping the teacher out with some of the classes. Our teacher, Mike, told me that  I had done so well with oil changes and breaks that he likes to show me off to the new students that aren’t sure of themselves. He’s such a sweetie.

Mike said, “If you ever need any parts just stop by and pay the wholesale price.”

 I did stop by once. But, it was just to ‘borrow’ some used brake pads. They were so old. They couldn’t be used safely any longer. Honestly, it wasn’t like they were going to be missed. Mike also said if I wanted to I could definitely have been a wonderful mechanic. I agree.

 Before heading home, I stopped by the nursery to get some chamomile. I’m learning to make my own tea. I loved the botany class. I want to make a nice basket for Patrice for Monday. She’s so sweet.  Chamomile is good for calming the nerves. I just have to make sure to use enough that it’s actually effective.

   Sometimes, I am cheap with the main ingredients and it takes a while to notice anything.  I really thought Jennifer would have complained about her vanilla almond milk much sooner.  Due to my weight, I have developed diabetes. I have to make sure to monitor my blood and give myself shots every day. I absolutely hate shots. But, I can’t complain too much. With the teeny tiny needles that I use I can’t feel a thing. I can’t even see where the needle went in. They’re so small that Jennifer never saw the puncture holes they made when I added a little something extra to her doughnuts and almond milk.  I was just lucky she liked her doughnuts sweet and coffee even sweeter.  

  I had the most wonderful walk. I stopped by Sam’s Florist and treated myself to a nice lucky plant.

  I normally get one at the beginning of the New Year. But, why not start now? Every day is a new day to start a new life. My psychologist told me that once. She’s nice. I try to be a good person, polite person, sweet and fun person. But, sometimes, I get angry. I have mean thoughts and sometimes I do, we’ll say ummm not very nice things. I wouldn’t harm an animal of course.  Those people are crazy! But, I’ve been working with her for the last two years and I think I’ve made great strides.

  My psychologist also told me that I needed to get out more. Just going to work and the shops weren’t enough for someone to be social and lead a normal social life.  So, I started taking evening classes.

 I began with cooking and then botany classes.  During the botany class, I met a nice lady that said it’s a good idea to take a basic car maintenance class. She took one and said that it really made her feel, “empowered.”  I thought to myself that I’ll learn how to change a tire, do some basic maintenance and meet men.  I can be “empowered” and have a good looking man. How in a class of 20 was the only man the instructor?  This was a noticeable disappointment. But, I did learn A LOT. I actually excelled.

    As I was walking back to the office, I noticed people from the building outside surrounding someone on a stretcher. Next to an ambulance! Oh my goodness. What could have happened?  I saw Dennis standing by the steps.

    I said, “What happened and who did it happen to?”

    Dennis said, “It’s Jennifer. She was coming back from the break room, got to the door, said something unintelligible, clutched at her chest and just fell.”

   Didn’t I say she looked sick earlier? She hadn’t looked exactly what you would call ‘healthy’ in a while. Her hair was thinning.  Maybe, that’s why she wore it up in a bun. Most days’ she was complaining about not feeling well. But, I thought that was due to her overly healthy diet.  Eating that much fiber can’t be good for you, can it?

  Everyone was standing around looking panicked. Patrice was saying prayers and looked as if her world had just come crashing down. Jessica lit a cigarette and was told off, by the security guard for smoking, next to the entrance of the building. She put it out and walked back in and blew a smoke ring inside the entrance. May I add, I’m pretty sure I saw her smile. I like Jessica. But, sometimes she comes off as a bit strange.   

Inside we tried out best to console Patrice. Dennis waved a magazine over her face to cool her down. 

About an hour later Jennifer walked back into the room. She leaned against the doorway. 

I said,” You don’t look very well.” “You look tired and a little sweaty.”

Jennifer replied, “I said I never feel good after eating and drinking from Mack’s.”  With a tired expression she continued, “Anyway, I decided that we’re not going to have a party this year.” She walked away, towards the bathroom.

  There was a collective sigh that I’m sure Santa heard.  Patrice looked sad, Dennis turned on one foot and stomped off and Jessica put her middle fingers up.  That part was done when Jennifer was far enough down the hall.

    I sat back down and continued typing up my profile for the singles site that I had joined last night.  I had taken at least 30 selfies. Different outfits and angles.  Back arched, lips pouted, lips normal, a happy smile showing teeth, nice smile, no teeth. I’m trying to make sure that I have all of the looks covered. I need to convey that I may be smart, independent and classy. But, I’m also friendly, sexy and really happy!

  This time I’m going to meet someone.   Ooh, it’s lunchtime! I think I’ll go out and walk around the block. I am going to get serious about this losing weight thing.