Ali Griswold

Wishing you well, kind regards, all the best, Allie."

Early the next morning, I tiptoe over to my neighbor's flat.

I've addressed the note to top floor flat because I don't know their names.

I don't even know their flat number.

I put it through the mail slot and I run back to my building.

A week goes by, nothing changes.

The showering and the shower sex continue apace.

At this point, I'm forced to conclude there's one of two options.

Option one, they read my note and they don't care.

Option two, which seems to me far more likely, they didn't get or didn't read my note.

I resigned myself to the situation, and in the meantime, I tell everyone else in my building about it too.

And so a couple months later, my neighbors in the flat directly below mine, Alex in Georgia, come by with some news.

They tell me that the flat in the building next door is up for sale, and their friends are buying it.

They've already told their friends about the shower window and their friends are planning to get a curtain.

I'm like, amazing.

And what an incredible sitcom level solution to my sitcom level apartment problem.

When are they moving in?

Home sales close slowly in the UK, but several more months down the line, their friends move in.

I know this not because Alex and Georgia tell me, but because one day new people are in the shower and they're taller.

I won't go into too much detail other than to say that when you are seeing people through their shower window and they're taller, more is available at eye level.