Unexpected company

It's Sunday afternoon. I return from a mid-day swim, have my lunch and settle in behind the desk (above) to use the computer in the street-level bedroom that we use as our office.

Just around the corner, I hear the front door open. Hmmm, guess I didn't lock it, I think to myself. No big deal.

A young man -- late 20s, possibly 30-ish -- with a knit cap appears in the hallway, starts to kick off his shoes and unbutton his jacket. He nods and says, "How's it goin'?"

"Fine," I say, raising my eyebrows. I don't recognize him.

I get up from the stability ball that serves as my chair and peek into the hallway just as the door opens again. A young woman with long black hair crosses the threshold, holding a Starbucks cup, and removes her Chuck Taylors. Like the guy, she is slightly built. Filipina, perhaps?

"Hi," she says brightly.

"Hello," I answer back.

Then it dawns on me.

"Are you here to look at a condo unit? Because, uh, we actually live here."

Their mouths drop open. Omigosh, we're so sorry. We thought this was the model unit. We're so embarrassed.

Who would have figured? I guess that's what we get for leaving our door unlocked. And I guess the building owners and listing agent learned they need to do a better job of designating which unit is open to the public.

No biggie, though. They were a nice enough couple. We invited them to take the stairs to the second floor and at least see what the kitchen/living room area looks like when there is furniture in it. Sometimes it can be hard to visualize when it's empty.

They were gracious, if overly apologetic, and left after just a few minutes to find the project architect, who's living two doors down from us, and get their official tour.

Now wouldn't that be something if they wound up becoming our neighbors?