Dear young, wealthy, hip woman with an iPod:
I know you feel very sheik and all, moving into these new "luxury apartments" which my family has been living in as "middle class apartments" since I was nine. I know that you must have impeccable taste in music, and that your iPod must be very engulfing. I know that your blackberry must also have only the most intelligent and important business on it which is immediately in need of your attention. I don't mean to inconvenience you. All I ask is that you, I dunno, LOOK at me when you walk directly into me while I'm waiting for the elevator and you are exiting. And, I know it's tough, but maybe you could even ACKNOWLEDGE me as you bump straight into me and keep going. We are, after all, neighbors, and now I know what floor you live on.
I have a key to the building and I know how to use it.
Won't you be my neighbor?
Irene
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