Let me tell you. It's when--after telling yourself for weeks, "Stop being so paranoid! You probably don't need to change the lock on your apartment door. You probably don't need to shove a chair under the doorknob every night. Your manager isn't coming to kill you in a hail of psychotic bullets--that's a paranoid fantasy scenario"--you talk to two other perfectly sane, well-adjusted, normal tenants in your building, whom you've never shared any information with whatsoever, and they independently tell you that this is what THEY ARE THINKING, TOO. Down to every last detail: the chained door, the desire for new locks, even the HAIL OF BULLETS.
As it turns out, I am one of the people with the LEAST cause for complaint against our scary, scary, scary manager.
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4 comments:
Sounds like you need, not new locks, but a new apartment.
Yeah. You said it.
... but you should get new locks in the meantime. And some large friends with big guns.
He's been fired!
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