Last night, returning home from a 10 hour day, I decided to retrieve my mail. For that, I have to walk from the back of the building to the front, often passing by the balconies of the building next door.

On most nights, the balconies of the building next door are filled with raucous partiers trying to get another beer or singing along to a Rihanna song (I love Rihanna, but at 2 am on the balcony? Anyway…) But last night, there was a different variety up on the (I don’t know, I didn’t look) 3rd or 4th floor.

Have you ever had that moment where you just thought “wow, I was supposed to be there at that time so I could hear that.” That happened last night.

Walking back from the mailbox, this is what I heard:

“I didn’t want to hurt her, but am I a scumbag if I stay, or a scumbag if I go?”

You may be more of a scumbag for the former, but for the latter we reserve the right to think you are a scumbag for at least a month (or like 5) until we realize you were doing the right thing.




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