Call Me Sweet Pea

One of the more interesting parts of high rise living is the diversity of the neighbors.  At first I took it upon myself to get to know everyone I could, but with over 200 units in the building, I quickly found that my efforts were futile.  In the down economy, the residents rotate on a regular basis, and by the time you've learned a person's name, they're gone.

To combat this phenomenon the twins and I devised a simple "Friends" like naming scheme to facilitate in the necessity of passing building gossip.

"So, I ran in to Psycho Blond Chick today"
"Wait... Is she the one across from Scary Racist Dude?"
"No no no.  That's Angry Fighting Couple.  Psycho Blond chick is one unit over"

The interesting thing about Scary Racist Dude's unit is that it's always occupied by someone who is just off.

After Scary Racist Dude it was Pot Smoker Pete.  PSP was then replaced by the most recent occupant, Crazy Witch Lady. I'm not saying that CWL practices black magic, but if this was 1692 I'd be dunking her in the pool to see if she could escape with her hands tied.


As I opened my door a few days ago I was surprised to find a small dog running up to greet me. I looked down the hall and a moment later a door off in the distance opened. CWL would emerge, covered in henna, her hair in that oh so trendy Albert Einstein do, and a general look that said, "I'm somewhere else right now."

She didn't even glance in my direction as she shouted, "Let's go Sweet Pea."
Without hesitation I responded, "Be right there Sugalump" and it was then that she finally reacted to my presence.

"Oh. She's the ambassador of the floor" she explained the dog greeting me.
"Oh.  The dog.  I thought you were talking to me" I feigned ignorance, explaining my joke.
"You're the ambassador for the floor?" she asked, somewhat confused.

Huh?

The eleven floor elevator ride was taken in complete silence save a few socially awkward whimpers from Sweet Pea.