Neighbours and Nutjobs

The new apartment is working out pretty well in the winter:

• the blast-furnace thermals of this building, pure torture in the summer, are now comforting, given a -25 C windchill
• someone else worries about the snow in the parking lot

Interestingly, a recent turn of events involves my next-door neighbour. I ran into him in the laundry room the other night. He rambled on many subjects, including a trivia night that he ran recently at a club. He asked me the final question:

Two goalies have won the Conn Smythe Trophy (MVP in the playoffs). Name them.

I guessed Ken Dryden and, after some thought, Chris Osgood. He beamed, "You got it!". Great! I haven't lost my hockey mojo.

Well. I looked up the answer later. Chris Osgood did not win the Conn Smythe and there a dozen goalies who have won the Conn Smythe award.

Our new friend is a few steps short of a staircase, I'm afraid.

All the more interesting: on Valentine's Day evening, he approached me in the hallway and asked me if he could borrow $10. He had a story about his stranded girlfriend. Though weird, he struck me as honest, so I lent him the cash. He promised to pay me back by Wednesday night.

I write this on Wednesday night. We'll see what happens. I am skeptical that he will remember but I am certain that he will try and mooch something else soon. I wonder what the look on his face will be when I remind him that the juice is already running on the $10 (a gambler's term for interest).