Who knew eavesdropping could be so much fun?
For the first time in my life, I am living on my own and the best part? I live by the elevator in my apartment building.
My door has a peephole and as much as I hate to admit it, it’s a guilty pleasure of mine to steal glances of who’s leaving and coming, who’s saying their goodbyes, or wondering the most infamous and unanswered questions: Why are they getting home so late? Where were they this evening that restricted them from getting home all the way until 1 a.m? Who were they on the phone with as they got off the elevator? Why are they crying? Who are they in a fight with?
I can’t stress enough the endless novels that I could write and base solely on the characters and conversations that I hear outside my door, as it seems that the most interesting interactions happen right outside the elevator as people are coming and going.
I want to clarify that this odd evening entertainment of mine that I’ve adopted as almost a hobby at this point, didn’t begin immediately when I moved into my new apartment. At first, it was a subtle thought that would come to mind whenever I would hear the soft mumbling of a conversation happening right outside my door, which then progressed into a raging question of, “Who’s getting home at 1 a.m? Let me turn down my TV and bolt to my peephole to find out.”
As a full-time college student, there isn’t a lot of things that I have time and energy to put an effort into, but you bet your bottom that when I hear something interesting happening outside my door, I’m the first to drop my homework and rush to the infamous peephole to find out what the commotion is. And I’d also like to distastefully add, I have even trained myself skillfully to step over the small area in my floor that groans loudly when I approach my door; as I want to avoid the victims outside the elevator of ever knowing that someone, a pathetic college student who has no life of her own and so chooses to live vicariously through the peephole of other’s lives, is listening in on what their conversation holds. Sometimes I’m disappointed with what I hear, as the details aren’t juicy, and most of the time, they never are. And even when I see or hear something interesting, who do I pass it along to? No one. Unfortunately, I get some sick satisfaction of knowing information and then keeping it to myself; like an all-knowing neighbor that no one is even aware of. And I’m fine with that reputation.
I never noticed how heavily I relied on this sort of evening event until recently, after I had finished up two hours-worth of homework, that I heard the elevator making its creaks and cries as it rose to the second floor of my building, and like the psychotic eavesdropper that I am, I flung from my bed and sprinted to my door. Practically jumping over the creaky spot in my floor, I looked through the peephole excitedly and watched as a young couple, who I thought had broken up the week prior, exited the elevator uneventfully. Scandalous.
Were they getting back together? I wondered vaguely if they had worked things out. I asked my dog what she thought, and she stared at me with nothing short of complete judgement. “Get a life,” her eyes told me.
The moral of this story, is that someone is always watching. And sometimes that someone, is a 20-year-old college student who’d rather spy on you through a peephole versus watching television. I never do anything with the information that I learn through the peephole, and I never speak of who comes and goes at all times of the night. But on evenings like these, when most of my night has been eaten up with homework and boring school assignments, sometimes hearing a boring conversation outside my door at 1 a.m. is just the entertainment that keeps me chugging along through the week. It’s an innocent guilty pleasure of mine that I don’t plan on ceasing anytime soon.
And so the next time you feel bored with your uneventful days, or you feel as though you have no life, just know that somewhere in the world, there’s a 20-year-old college girl who sprints to her door faster than she ever ran on her track team in high school, and watches through a peephole as people exit an elevator … just because she has nothing better to do.
If that doesn’t make you feel better about your own situation, I don’t know what will.
Paige Malenock is a resident of Point Marion.