Won't you be my neighbor?

Early this afternoon as I sat in our apartment, I heard my neighbor banging loudly on her door and shouting for her roommate. I let it go for a while since the two of them like to argue and generally be mean to each other (I can only hope in jest). I just figured that the roommate had locked her out for fun and would open the door in a second. After listening to the incessant banging for more than a minute, however, I opened my door and offered some assistance. To my surprise, my neighbor was standing in the hallway clad only in her underthings.

(Before I go any farther, I should remind you all that my neighbors are graduates of a local university program that teaches life skills to students with mental disabilities. The scantily-clad neighbor happens to have Down Syndrome, though she's a very independent, capable and loud-spoken young lady.)

I quickly ushered my neighbor into my apartment and offered her a large T-shirt to wear. She thanked me and explained that she had just run out quickly to drop her trash down the nearby garbage chute. (Why she failed to dress herself first is still unclear.) In her rush, she forgot to bring her key with her. Our doors close like molasses so she assumed she could catch it on the way back, but it's a very windy day and her window was open so the door slammed closed quickly. That left her outside in her undies and her roommate lounging in the bathtub, oblivious to her embarrassed cries.

We had a good chat about our lives. I even found out that her brother lives in Scottsdale. It was good neighbor-bonding time in a really weird way. After a few minutes, I suggested she try knocking again. Even though I told her she could keep the T-shirt, she insisted on removing it to knock once again. Thankfully, this time her roommate answered the door.

All she said was, "At least I've never let our neighbors see me in my bra."