Since I was single and lived close to the office, I was also the designated home support guy as well. It wasn’t a bad gig, when it was needed, I would make house calls to replace problem devices with fresh ones or drop off needed extra equipment. Most of the time it would have only taken me an hour or less to correct the problem, but my boss wanted minimal contact, so it was just replace in kind and repair later. I would spend a few days getting computers sorted and refreshed afterwards for the next time they were needed. I also was given a 20% ‘danger pay’ premium added to my wage for the added trouble and personal vehicle use.
I started with getting all of my groceries delivered, but after a few disappointing deliveries, decided I had to get fruits and vegetables myself. Other than the work and grocery outings, I was doing my part by staying locked down. I only had one good friend, Dan, and he was staying locked down with his wife and sons. We’d done ‘driveway beers’ a few times, but it had been a rainy summer and didn’t get a lot of opportunities. As the restrictions started to lift, my hopes for returning to normal lifted, but with the cases going up, I decided to keep myself mostly isolated.
I didn’t get a chance to do anything other than briefly meet some of my new neighbors, there was an odd mix of retirees and college kids, but not a lot of people in their 30s like myself. I had met one woman, Angela, who lived directly above me. She was the closest I’d seen to me in age, I later learned she was 37, but didn’t look it. She was fairly short, probably just a couple of inches past 5′, she had a spectacular hourglass figure, and looked like she kept herself in shape without being overly crazy about fitness. Her strawberry blonde hair was slightly curly and ended a couple of inches past her neck. She had that effortless beauty; very little makeup, full lips, and large hazel eyes that expressed her emotions. I doubt I would have ever worked up the courage to talk to her, but I made a poor first… and second… and third impression to ensure that would never matter.
My first meeting with Angela was the day I moved in, she was looking for her cat, Mr. Fuzzles, he had escaped her condo and bolted for the stairwell. I had left the front door propped open while I was moving stuff in, and she found him in the tree out front. She gave me a terse ‘thank you’ when I retrieved him from the tree for her and I ended up apologizing to the back of her head as she stormed away.
My second encounter with Angela was later that same day. I had finished unloading my stuff from Dan’s pickup and when I started it, a big black cloud of smoke blew out the exhaust at her. I tried to explain that I wasn’t used to a diesel, I drive a Hyundai hybrid, but she yelled at me for ‘rolling coal’ and stormed off from me again.
My third encounter with her was probably the worst. I had just gotten home and was checking my mail when I noticed, what I thought, was one of the college girls stretching against the stairwell railing. She had a tight runner’s body, and my gaze lingered on her well presented ass a little too long, when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. “That is my 16 year old daughter you’re ogling.” Angela said sternly. All I could do was blush and try to apologize as she pushed past me. Her daughter smiled at me coyly and brushed past me into the lobby and out the front door.
After that, I got nothing but stern glares from Angela. Her daughter, Hayley, was quite the opposite. Whenever I encountered her, without her mother, she was all smiles and flirtatious touches or ‘inadvertent’ brushes. I was always polite, but firm in my disinterest, which seemed to only make her more interested.
When the first cases started popping up, the owner of our firm sent everyone home two weeks before anyone else. It was a simple transition, all of the engineers had laptops, so they were notified to take what they needed and go home. I spent the next week running miscellaneous computer components to the engineers that they discovered they needed. Before the self-isolation mandate started rolling out, we were all set.
As the weeks wore on, I found myself enjoying the solitude. I was always a less social person, and I got most of the human contact I needed from work interactions and online chats with my parents in Victoria, my sister in England, and Dan’s family only a few kilometers away. My ex wife reached out a few times, but I only talked long enough to make sure she and the baby she was carrying were ok, before letting her go.
It was now mid-July, I had just finished an hour on my exercise bike, when I heard an odd scrape, then a shriek and a loud thud from the floor above me. I was about to dismiss it as Angela or Hayley dropping something, but then I caught the faint sound of someone groaning in pain. I waited to hear the sound of help being given or the injured person getting up, but nothing. The groans started to give way to light sobbing. I came to the realization that Angela or Hayley was probably alone and possibly hurt. I grabbed a mask and headed out my door for the stairwell.
I got to the door and listened, the sobbing was clearer, as if she was on the other side of the door. I knocked on the door. “It’s Ken from downstairs, are you ok? I heard a crash.” I asked.
The crying stopped, and I heard her take a deep breath. “I fell. I think I’m ok.” She said wearily.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “You don’t sound ok.”
“I’m fine!” She snapped.
I guess it was Angela. “Ok. I’m sorry for bothering you. Have a nice day.” I said, then went back down to my condo, fuming.
‘What the fuck?’ I thought to myself. ‘I was only trying to be nice. I get that she doesn’t like me, but why was she being such a bitch?’
After a shower, I had calmed down, forcing myself to see it from her point of view: I’m the the asshole that let her cat out, sent a big plume of diesel smoke at her, and was staring at her daughter’s ass. I’m sure she thought I was going to assault her or something.
I knew I looked the part of a goon; shaved head, goatee, 6’2″ tall, 210lbs, and tattoos on my forearm. The thing is, I had no control over my height, and I had shitty genes that had me looking like Captain Picard at 23. If I didn’t work out, my sedentary job would have me at 300lbs like my father, and my tattoos were the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire crests. I was a nerd, but I looked more like a biker.
I decided to go into my home office and get some more work done. I had to get three laptops ready for change out next week. After about an hour, there was a knock at my door. I was puzzled as to who could be at my door, but I grabbed a mask and opened it, revealing Angela standing there with a plate of cookies.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” She said, looking very shy. “I was embarrassed about falling and I’ve been having a really shitty week. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, you were only trying to help. I brought these as a peace offering.” She said lifting the plate. “I didn’t know if you had any allergies. So I went with oatmeal chocolate chip.”