For one year, my next-door neighbor through the thin wall was this guy, who shall be known as "Dan'l". He lived in the studio apartment, rarely had any visitors (and when he did, it was his sister). His unfortunate tendency to speak loudly into his telephone provided me with far more information than neighbors usually have about each other: he was a diver (including rescue-diving), from the group of four cities to the west of here, intending (however vaguely) to go to medical school when his finances were in order, and he did not intend to stay in this area for very long. We had also, on more than one occasion, watched the same TV programs at the same time, to the point that I would turn off the sound on mine so I didn't have the annoying stereo effect through the wall. We would laugh at the same time during the programs (or, in the case of Extreme Home Makeover, cry at the same time), which was odd to say the least. I had apparently mentioned Dan'l once or twice, because one evening, while talking with The Cat, I mentioned that he was just then arriving home - his Jeep was pulling into the parking lot. "You should take a picture of him sometime." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my camera on the coffee table. "Hang on...."
I took three pictures, as he was walking away from the Jeep and toward the building.
I didn't think anything of it, really, until I loaded them into my computer a few days later and looked at them at actual-size (rather than in the little camera window). As one can tell from this last of the three photos, he had clearly noticed that I was taking pictures of him - he's looking straight at the camera with an expression that is, at best, puzzled. Since we'd encountered each other in the hallways once or twice since then and he hadn't said anything, he must have (a) thought I was a really mellow stalker, and (b) not been too upset. I was completely mortified - and I still laugh, every time I see this photo.
[title quotation by Ralph Ellison, from Battle Royal]
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