I think the maintenance man at our apartment thinks Greg and I are gay. Perhaps it stems from my general paranoia, but here’s the deal:
1) Whenever he comes over, no one has their shirts on.
2) The other day he came over to fix the blinds in TJ’s room. The way our apartment is set up, TJ will have his own room and Greg and I are sharing a room. To save on moving heavy things, Greg and I just put our stuff into the room we’ll be using and we are storing stuff in TJ’s room until he gets back from California for the summer. Anyway, maintenance man comes over, sees that two guys live in a two bedroom apartment and share a room and are using the extra room for storage. We’re not gay, I swear!
3) The maintenance guy sees me when I go to the pool every morning. For some reason, when I moved out my mom saw fit to equip me with the most effeminate beach towel we have. It’s pink, purple, light blue, and yellow. This surely does not help my case.
If any of you ever see the maintenance man when you come over, especially if you’re a girl, tell him that the dudes up in apartment 235 don’t swing that way.
