I moved into my apartment in April of 2023. Nothing is worse than a moving day in the city—packing and unpacking, working with movers if you’re lucky, or friends if you’re loved (I happen to be a bit of both, thank you very much), and in some cases: making a first impression on your neighbors!
In hindsight, I should’ve known that scheduling Verizon to set up the Wi-Fi on the same day of move-in would be a disaster. Too many cooks in the kitchen. Alas, it was the plan I made, and I intended to follow through with it. I arrived at the new apartment with a big truck of my belongings and following only a few feet behind were the Verizon technicians, ready to access the backyard to hang lines from trees and perform their other magical tasks.
Oh, the joys of living in New York! Yes, my building does have a backyard, but no, I do not have access to it. Yes, some people do have access to it, but no, I do not know the folks in 1L or 1R who hold the keys to this elusive place. To get into the backyard, the Wi-Fi magicians will need to be let into someone’s apartment to navigate through their space with ladders and their clunky boots. It seems that 1R is not home, and 1L is unwilling to let anyone—boots-wearing or otherwise—into her space.
Fast-forward 15 minutes, and that’s how I found myself standing outside my apartment building, begging and pleading through 1L’s window for her to grant the technician access to the backyard. Surprise, surprise: most people do not enjoy being told what to do by strangers making frantic requests from outside their window.
The Verizon guys ended up leaving. We were left without Wi-Fi until 1R came home, we coordinated a time to provide entry to the backyard through his apartment a few days later, and that was the end of that. However, it has been 15 months since I felt it necessary to scream through my neighbor’s open window, and that neighbor and I have exchanged nothing except for a short “hello” if she is smoking her morning cigarette on the steps as I’m leaving for work.
I take full responsibility for making a less-than-ideal impression that morning. I have my reasons, and though I do believe there is a world where the neighbor could’ve found my course of action endearing and funny, that is not the world we live in. Fair enough.
We’ll fast-forward again, and it is August 2024. I’m once more standing outside my apartment, waiting for the Verizon magician to acquire gear from his car. The tropical storm that swept through the city on Saturday tore our wires to shreds, and here I am, again, like a fool, Wi-Fi-less, needing backyard access, and making myself available for clunky boots-wearing men to enter my home. I know better now; I coordinate everything through 1R.
But there she is—sitting on the stoop, smoking her morning cigarette, bright pink eye masks under her eyes. She asks me what’s going on, and I turn to face her. This is the most we’ve ever spoken. I need to be charming, yet relatable. Normal, yet quirky!
I tell her the story, and she nods. She then asks, “You’re Amy, right?” I say something strange about how it’s so crazy we “haven’t met yet” and as soon as she goes along with it, I can feel the tide changing. I mean, we have met—plenty of times. We met in April 2023 through her window and we’ve met as I brush past her and mumble hello, being transported back each time to my embarrassing first day. What I meant was that it’s so crazy we are acknowledging each other by name and having a conversation. I dip my toe further into the water, asking her how long she’s lived in the building.
“It’ll be four years in September. I moved here during COVID and I’ve watched so many people filter in and out.”
“Are you going to re-sign?” I asked.
“Psh, I’m hoping so. These people will raise the rent any chance they get, but my renewal is coming up in September, and they haven’t told me the price yet, so I think, at this point, I’m in the clear. When is your lease up? Are you going to re-sign?”
I exhaled. Even if you know, with 100% certainty, that you plan on renewing your New York apartment lease, it is still a stressful question. “I’m not sure,” I say. “I don’t think so, but I don’t know. I’m not positive yet what my plan is. I’ve been missing nature a lot. There’s not a ton of that around here, and I’m feeling the effects.” I laugh, it comes out stifled. This is one of the things that my mind has been going, going, going, going about recently.
“I hear you. Where’s home for you?”
“Not far. About 40 minutes outside the city. You?”
“Oh! I’m from Nyack.”
“No way! I was just at Nyack Beach State Park this weekend! Oh my goooosh, it was so lovely.” (It was, seriously, so lovely. I have another piece in the works about my day there.)
“Right on the water. So many trees. I bet you only saw like 10 people there the whole time.”
“Exactly.” I look up and to the left and see a friendly face, a curious calico cat, staring back at me. “Is that your kitty?”
“It is. That’s Kiki! It’s her apartment, really. She loves hanging by the window, I’m sure you’ve seen her before?”
Making conversation with someone new is a dance: at times, they follow your lead, at times, you follow theirs, and for most of the experience, you’re wondering when you won’t feel so stiff. (Note: I am, historically, not a dancer. This may not be everyone’s experience with dancing.)
I’ve found that, in most cases, the more of yourself you’re willing to share, the more open the other person will be as well. Timidly, I reveal, “I’ve seen her… I actually grew up in a cat-hating household. It’s only this year that I’ve tried to change my ways and like cats a bit more.”
I am so satisfied when she throws her head back, howling, “I grew up in a cat-hating house too! Seriously. Up until Kiki, I had no interest. But when therapy became too expensive, and I was dumped, I needed some relief. I fostered Kiki for a month, ended up adopting her, and can confidently say that she has saved my life.”
“How so?”
“There is nothing better than snuggling your face into soft, warm fur when it feels like everything is too much. Plus, she taught me a lot about boundaries. She’s sweet but it took some time to build our relationship. She has an attitude. She’s a lot like me.” She chuckles. “Plus, we had a mouse once. Since Kiki has joined my world, no mouse in sight.”
She explains that mice can smell a litter box, and once they do, they stay far away. Suddenly, I need a cat of my own. The Verizon man returns, carrying what looks like a tire but is actually a very tightly wound mass of wires that I assume will give me internet access. “Ready?” he asks. “Let’s do it,” I reply.
He heads up the stairs into my building, and I tell my neighbor that it was great chatting with her. She agrees and adds, “Feel free to take down my number. I’m happy to share my schedule if, for some reason, the guys can’t fix it today and they need to come back.” I add her as a contact in my phone, and head inside.
An hour later, the internet is back and I am sitting alone in my apartment. I pull out my phone:
A few takeaways from this experience:
People are full of surprises: The longer you know someone, the more likely they are to catch you off guard.
First impressions aren’t everything: If you bomb your first meeting, do better the second time around.
You can find common ground with anyone: Even with mortal enemies. Not that she was a mortal enemy but, ya know.
Don’t procrastinate on neighbor relations: Waiting 15 months to mend fences with your downstairs neighbor might mean missing out on their wisdom and possibly a fire pit!
This morning, as I stepped out of my apartment with a basket full of dirty laundry, I spotted her sitting outside near the building door. In a way, it felt like a scene from our usual routine: she was enjoying a cigarette, and I was heading somewhere.
However, this time was different. My "hello" was clear and cheerful, free from the mumbled clumsiness that used to accompany our encounters. We exchanged warm smiles, and five minutes later, I found that same smile lingering on my face as I tossed my laundry into the washing machine.
This is such a sweet piece of writing! Really enjoyed reading it. I've never been too tight with neighbours except when I was a kid and this made me with it wasn't that way. Oh well, unfortunately people are a bit less friendly here in Helsinki compared to NY I imagine...
I just finished reading your post, and it was truly beautiful. I felt like I was right there with you, experiencing every moment. Thank you for restoring faith in humanity with your writing. It’s incredible how one conversation can change everything. We’re all constantly evolving, and you never know what someone might be going through. I hope you get to enjoy that fire outside soon. Your words have made a real impact on me.