My landlord must be related to Norman Bates...

I am telling you... the man is a PSYCHO...

Is your "Company" staying the night?

I do not believe he is truly this psycho, first I could care less if he wears his dead mothers frocks. I have seen some interesting fetish gear over the years, so much so that man in a dress doesn't even get a second glance. What I am more concerned with however is the thought of  the crazy bastard brandishing a meat cleaver in the darkened foyer.

My apartment is, hold on... coffee is ready. I will be right back.

Ok, back... Yes, I know I was only gone a moment. That is because my kitchen is a scant one step from my bedroom. So, where where was I...

My apartment is on the bottom floor of a three floor house. My landlord lives in an apartment above mine. Living above him are three rambunctious hungarian teens. Not sure why I mentioned them as they are not really that important to the story. Oh wait, yes they are but that is not until later... and while I am on the subject of the Hungarians I should mention that my landlord is Greek and his english is at best, well... medieval.

So where does the psycho come into the picture?

How about standing in the pitch dark foyer... watching the street. I mean literally standing there in the dark with his hands in pocket... waiting... watching... for whom knows?

Then there is the unnerving fact that he knows who comes to visit my apartment and how long they stay. How do I know this? Well, that is quite simple. He confronted me outside the apartment the other day and told me, in his broken english that if I continue to have "company" I would have to pay him more rent, as my "company" was costing him money.

Ever have the feeling your being watched...

Now, my gentle readers let me explain to you about my "company". Company is the name he uses for my boyfriend Stephen. Stephen usually came over after seven in the evening and was typically gone by seven the following morning. On average he was staying here about five nights a week. What I am wondering is how this is costing my loving Norman Bates landlord additional? Let me explain... I never cook at my place, simply because I have about four square inches of counter space. Making a cup of coffee can at times be a challenge. My apartment is fairly small so I do not use a lot of light. On a side note, if you ever saw the carpeting I have here, you would prefer "mood lighting" as well. I am the only one that uses the shower here. Let me simply say that if you saw the size and condition of my shower you would more then sympathize with me. So, what exactly does my "company" do here that would cause my utilities to be so high? I have no fucking idea, honestly... Oh, I suppose I should have mentioned that, my utilities are included in my rent Then there is the issue he has with the way I close doors in my apartment. He seems to think I get a thrill by slamming them. Please let me explain... I have the two doors I use in my place, the front door and bathroom. Now given my status of employment, with is being unemployed... it's not often that I charge out of my apartment. Then there is the bathroom door, the one you cannot close entirely as the knob itself has a tendency to fall off... nice place, huh? Classy... So who is this mystery door slammer? Could it be the drunken hungarian teens rolling in around four in the morning? Perhaps he should wait for them in the dark, since he clearly has nothing better to do. How do I know he has nothing better to do? It's because I can hear him pacing in his apartment at two in the morning... I mean who the hell paces at that hour? Perhaps his support hose is not as comfortable now that he is clearly enjoying those fabled golden years? So here I sit in the dark... making not a sound... waiting for Norman to fall asleep... because you know I cannot wait to turn on all the lights, bake a few cakes and to be sure to close firmly the front door after checking for mail at two in the morning...  *GRIN*