Shoes
May 2, 2023

I often find myself taking trips back and forth between my girlfriend’s house and my dorm room in order to pickup things I’ve forgotten. My roommate has the unfortunate habit of peeing all over the toilet seat everytime he uses that bathroom, and I’m too much of a coward to say anything to him about it, so I figured it would be in everyone’s best interests if I spend as little time in my dorm as possible. It mostly functions as a place for me to keep my stuff, since it’s not like my girlfriend’s apartment is very big.

I live on the tenth floor, but I usually take the stairs instead of the elevator. I always feel awkward standing next to people in that tiny compartment. During my first few weeks at my school’s dormitory too many people tried to chat with me in the elevator, which freaked me out. So now I always take the stairs. I’m terrified of all human interaction, unless it’s completely on my terms. My terms are too bizarre and confusing for anyone who isn’t some kind of pervert to accept, so it’s best if I just avoid people.

Two Saturdays ago I went back to my dorm to pick up my computer. I stepped out of the stairwell, walked down the hallway, and discovered a dozen pairs of shoes in front of my door.

Of course this wasn’t actually my door. I’d stepped out of the stairwell one floor early. I was on the 9th floor, and my dorm room is on the 10th. What made this obvious to me was that there was no Buckingham Palace sign on the door with all the shoes. For whatever reason, I live in Buckingham Palace, Westminster London.

I keep worrying people who see that sign are going to think that I’m British. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just, if I were British, then it would mean I’m the sort of Brit who goes to China and puts a sign that says “Buckingham Palace” on his door, which is definitely not the sort of Brit I want to be.

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