Sometimes, after working a long day of overthinking and underachieving, one’s brain is turned to a state of mush that doesn’t really work properly. Today was one of those days.
I got home just after 11, walked into the apartment building and went to the elevator. It was up on the 14th floor so I figured I might as well get some exercise and take the stairs all the way up to the third floor.
When I get to our door, I put my key into the lock and it didn’t work. Seeing as I only have two keys, I try the other key figuring I must have mixed them up. That one didn’t work either.
Now at this point, a smarter man might have looked to see what was wrong instead of trying the door to see if it was open. It wasn’t until the woman started yelling and the dog started barking that I realized I might not be at the right apartment. Looking at the apartment number I discovered in my eagerness to exercise I’d climbed an extra flight of stairs to the apartment right above ours.
I said ‘sorry’ through the door and headed back downstairs. Before I made it half way down, a man came running out in his underwear looking ready to kill someone. I told him in perfect Japanese “Whoops. My mistake – 3 not 4.” and he seemed satisfied. Either that, or he didn’t want to try to communicate with a man who didn’t speak his language. Or he was just cold standing outside in his underwear. In any case, he ran back inside pretty quickly.
I chuckled as I went downstairs, careful not to end up on the second floor.