Maybe I'm Crazy...

Happy now? The Banshee asked, knowing how stupid I felt that moment. I was back in the safety of my kitchen, shoving a chocolate chip cookie in my mouth, trying to figure out where I went wrong.

There's 3 possibilities here. He either 1) gave you a false name, because he thinks you're crazy; 2) walked towards the first floor apartments to make you think he lived on the first floor, because he thinks you're crazy or 3) he doesn't really live here, and he's crazy.

None of those are really options, I argued; Annoyed; Confused. Whatever. You were right. The cookies were a dumb idea anyway.

Can I get a signed statement of you admitting that? The Banshee sassed.

Shut up, I replied, shoving another cookie in my mouth.

I flopped down on my couch, thumbing through Glamour. It didn't make sense. Yeah, okay, I probably seemed a little crazy. But not that crazy. No so crazy that he'd feel the need to make up some bullshit story just to not see me again.

Oh right. Not that you've never done anything like that before [cough cough Chandler] The Banshee chimed in.

You seriously need to shut the hell up, I told her. I was gonna get to the bottom of this one way or another, because it was gonna drive me crazy if I didn't. And then it hit me.

Of course his name wasn't on the call box list. He'd just moved here. Maybe it wasn't updated yet? I mean, it took months for them to update the listing after Joe moved out. That had to be it!

Then what was he pointing to on the call box if his name wasn't there? The Banshee asked, and it was a good question, and I had no answer.