Living in a swanky Fitzroy apartment complex can be quite entertaining. There are 24 of us boxed into little shiny studio apartments, and despite this proximity there ain't a whole lot of communication. Sure, there is odd half-embarrassed nod when we pass each other in the hallway, or mumbling thanks when another resident holds the front security door open when I'm battling my groceries. But when it's comes to words, my apartment block likes to keep things on paper.
Sometime last week, someone left an office chair in the front vestibule of the building and it disappeared a few hours later. According to the unwritten rule of North Melburnians, if you see something and there's no moving truck, it's yours. I've gotten tons of books and crockery that way, and it's a fine tradition I've passed along by leaving my totally re-usable furniture for others to enjoy.
So imagine my surprise when someone wrote a rather nasty note on the front door, along the lines of "PLEASE RETURN MY CHAIR. IT ISN'T YOURS. YOU STOLE IT. I NEED IT." A few hours later, the neglected chair was returned to it's original spot where it has stayed for another two days.
Now the chaise has become a notice board for fiery messages intended for its owner: