I always feel like, somebody's watching me...

Well, we met 'survy" the surveillance man, a.k.a Diane's neighbor.  Though at first, we thought the cameras belonged to the trusty maintenance man, we've now discovered that, nay, they belong to Diane's new creepy neighbor, who apparently dabbles in Ebay and is worried about the apartment's clientèle (or something to that effect).  We (Diane and her posse of Saturday movers) were quick to feel the presence of his many cameras as we carried boxes up the two flights to her apartment.  But, though we were hoping to meet mystery Ebay man, we were deprived the pleasure of putting a face to a camera until last night.

No longer worried about sleazy Ebay deliveries during the nighttime hours, her neighbor's door was sprung wide open to let in the crisp Colorado air (or out his stale cigarette smoke). Jill and I were locked out of Diane's apartment, so with little else to do, we peaked inside his apartment to see just what the cameras were "protecting", since anyone with that level of security would surely have prized items (and/or a healthy dose of paranoia). Check, check on the paranoia but as for the gold trimmed crown molding, not so much.  Instead, we saw the back side of what we thought was a young man wearing a college-style ball cap.  He was seated at a computer discussing what seemed to be steps for activating a facebook account. Surely anyone adept in Ebay selling and trading would already have zillions of "friends", but nay. And, sure enough, eye spy a 4-screen surveillance monitor complete with the black and white image of the goings ons of the oh so 'traffic heavy' staircase and hallway.  It was strange to see our images float across his screen.  (Really, what right does he have to monitor people as they catch some air outside?)

With arms casually draped over the steal railing and looking to the right for any sign of Diane, we were enjoying the quiet night when we suddenly realized we weren't alone.  "You two look like you're having fun." Jill and I swung our heads around to find an older man with a deadpan stare and crooked grin standing in the doorway. I guess we didn't pay attention to the "silence of the facebook" to realize he had wandered to the doorway for a smoke break. We were waiting for the "it puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again" line when, instead, he proceeded to tell us all the ins and outs of the apartment complex, including who lives where and what apartments have been (or will be) renovated.

Responding to my query about his surveillance cameras, he told us that he does "a lot of Ebay trading" and wants to monitor the 'sketchy' people delivering the goods. Riiight. More like he wants to monitor people's comings and goings. (We've got your number, bucko.) We instantly realized that his need to monitor his Ebay distributors is just a thinly veiled cover for the worlds nosiest (and perhaps paranoid) neighbor. If one was so successful in Ebay trading to warrant a surveillance system, why not upgrade to a controlled access apartment complex instead of opting for the more creepy route circa Psycho?

Of course, the first thing Diane does when arriving was strike up a conversation with the guy. Whatever happened to stranger danger??? I think Diane should "see" his surveillance camera, and "raise "him a spotlight aimed right at his bedroom window. So there!  -- E and J