I think I've got your number

Our apartment is falling down. I'm choosing to find it funny.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Finally: a federal offense

Our mailbox hasn't locked for months; neither my roommate nor I has the key. Last week, on my way out the door to run some errands, I flipped open the mailbox lid. There was one piece of mail inside, a letter from the housing department for LP. When you call 311 to complain, they send you a letter acknowledging the complaint and letting you know that it has been catalogued. This winter we called 311 about the heat constantly. We have complaint letters all over our apartment, falling out of our purses and sticking to the floor. At this point, I'm a little sick of them, so I figured I'd leave this one and grab it my trip back upstairs once the errands were done.

When I returned to my foyer and opened the mailbox, the letter was gone. It was mid-afternoon; LP wasn't due home for another three or four hours. I suppose one of my neighbors might have gone through my mail, but why? It's not like they don't all have their own acknowledgements of complaint from the housing department. Really, there's only one explanation for the letter's disappearance.

I wonder if Gloria and Walter know how illegal it is to commit mail fraud. I wonder if I should say something.

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