This past month has been something of a rollercoaster ride as my three teens and I moved into a new apartment across town. Almost immediately after signing the lease, we’d spend our evenings after work/school packing and lugging our belongings across town to our new place. It’s been twenty years since I’ve last lived in an apartment and I’d forgotten all that entailed; a hodgepodge collection of neighbors, frightening basement laundry room, and fuzzy “call box” that makes visitors sound like they’re taking orders at a drive-thru. About two weeks into the move, the kids were visiting their mother as I continued the arduous process of moving by myself. After my tenth trip up the stairs, I decided to take a breather and sit in my empty, new living room before making another trip. A few moments later, my silence was broken by the sound of another tenant entering the building and heading to their unit across the hall. At this point, I’d never seen any of my new neighbors with the only evidence of their existence a few scattered cars in the lot. For some reason, the sound of one of them moving about on the other side of the wall put me on edge. Who is this person? What are they like? Are they the friendly kind of neighbor you can borrow a cup of sugar from or the ones that call the cops every time your TV gets too loud? Of course, the obvious solution was to simply open my door and introduce myself but I had a different plan. After digging through a couple boxes I pulled out my copy of the 2007 Spanish horror film, REC – a film that’s not only stood the test of time but supports the idea that tenants are better off keeping to themselves! With only a TV and bookcase in the room, I decided to extend my break and watch it again while lying on the floor.

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