Neighbors

The following is an absolutely true story. I can't make  this stuff up, folks.

Last Friday, as you all probably know, there was a crazy storm in Omaha. About five minutes before it got really bad, the sirens went off. I looked outside and it was completely calm, so Rachel and I kept the TV on, but didn't think much of it. (We've never gone in the basement for a storm before. I'm usually out on the deck taking pictures of lightening.)

Anyway, about five minutes later, we look outside and it was just scary looking.  The tree in our parking lot was pretty much horizontal. So we decide, "Hey...don't really feel like risking death today. Let's check out the party in the basement."

Before I go further, I should explain that our apartment building consists of us, and about a dozen elderly, old, retired ladies.

We get downstairs  and there are the two ladies that live directly across the hall from us. They are the Chandler and Joey to our Rachel and Monica. (Friends? Anyone?) The one lady says, "Oh, are you our neighbors? Nice to meet you." (We meet her every day.) And then...this might be too much for some of you...it was too much for me...she said, "I didn't have time  to put on a bra."

Rachel and I immediately looked away from her and stared at each other, not even knowing what facial expressions we should have. So for  the next ten minutes, Rachel and I are on one end of the hallway, and everyone else is at the other end.

And then the lights go off. The rest of this would make a great scene in a movie. A HORROR movie.

The bra neighbor comes back over and stands by us for a second and says, "I can't see my shoes." I don't know if she didn't have them on and couldn't find them or if it was just so dark she couldn't see them...but she stood there for a while staring  at  us. In a dark, dank hallway. It doesn't sound scary, I know, but YOU WEREN'T THERE!

Needless to say...we went back upstairs. I'd rather be sucked into a tornado than be trapped in a hallway with scary elderly folk.