My building writes down everyone who comes to see me
Posted as the_visitor_log
- Looking for
- someone who can host, or the patience to work around a concierge
- Experience
- Six years, one long dynamic, ended when she took a job out west.
- Around
- downtown, Toronto
There is a desk in my lobby with a person behind it who writes down the name of everyone who comes to see me, the time they arrived and the time they left. He is perfectly nice. He also asks after my week, remembers faces, and once mentioned to me, kindly, that I had had a visitor twice in one week.
Forty three, downtown, submissive, six years in. One long dynamic that ended two years ago when she took a job out west. Since then I have discovered that the thing standing between me and any of this is not compatibility and it is not nerve. It is a building.
I cannot host in a way that would be relaxing for either of us. The walls are what a developer would call adequate, the corridor carries sound, and I share a wall with a family whose routine I know by heart, which means they know mine.
What I want is a long arrangement with somebody who has their own place, or the imagination to work out where else two adults can be. I am aware of how that reads. I am asking for something and offering none of the practical half of it, and I would rather say so in paragraph four than have you find out after two weeks of good conversation.
In exchange I am steady, I do not disappear, and I am unusually good at the parts of a dynamic that happen when nobody is in the room. Not looking for anybody who wants to test the walls. Not looking for a first meeting anywhere near where I live.