Potential Felonies, Snooping, Broken Marriages, Gay Porn- Yeah, We Got That

Baby and I rented the first place we looked at when we were apartment shopping last winter. We loved the space and the location, and we didn't really want to bother with a long search. Our landlord seemed nice enough, too. When he first showed us the apartment, the previous tenants hadn't moved all their stuff out yet. The furniture was all gone, but the leftover crap that nobody ever wants to pack was scattered around. Our landlord didn't seem very happy about this, and he made a few remarks that led us to believe they were problem tenants. He didn't provide any additional details and we didn't ask- we liked the place too much and we didn't want to pry.

Over time, though, it became obvious that something had been going on with these tenants. Ever nosy, I brought the subject up with my neighbors whenever I got the chance. To their credit, nobody told me anything all that revealing, although I got the feeling they were pretty weird. But when we kept getting their mail delivered, we knew something was wrong.

For the first few months we dutifully saved everything they got. We would periodically ask our landlord about it, and he would tell us to just throw it all away. We complied, but we felt strange about throwing away important mail- credit card bills, official-looking correspondence, all manner of things. At first we figured they'd requested a forwarding order and it hadn't been processed yet. This is perfectly reasonable- I bet African villages have better mail service than DC. But after about six months we realized these people had absolutely no intention of ever letting anyone know they'd moved. So I did what any person would have done in my position. I started opening all of their mail.

OK so maybe that wasn't the most mature thing to do. But I really wanted to know what was going on. Plus the guy was getting a letter at least every two weeks from Playboy, and how could I keep throwing those away? The mail had really become a nuisance at this point anyway. The woman had signed up for all sorts of grassroots political mailing lists, and she was getting propaganda every day as the election was getting close. They were also getting the same catalogs we did, so we really didn't need four copies of the Ikea catalog cramming our little apartment mailbox. Plus I'm a dick and I'm nosy. Sue me.

The letters from Playboy turned out to be offers to renew the guy's expired subscription. They were desperate- they were offering to let him sign back up and didn't want any money up front. I'm not fucking stupid, I checked that little box and put that one in the mail immediately. It was a trick though. They sent me (him) one issue then wanted more money. I didn't even get the College Girls DVD they advertised. Why does bad stuff always happen to me?

The other mail was more interesting, though. We learned the tenants weren't too keen on paying their bills. Hopefully you've never been six months behind on your credit card bills, but if you have been, you know they send you a very threatening bill at least once a week. And let me be the first to warn you- the IRS is not stoked if you don't pay your taxes and they decide you owe them money. And they're even more pissed when you owe them twenty thousand dollars. I don't know who these people are, but their credit is ruined and they've got a lot of explaining to do.

So I started wondering why these people would stop paying their bills. I came to the only rational conclusion: they got some horrible disease, undoubtedly from living in our apartment, and they lost their jobs and went broke. Our landlord didn't tell us about it, obviously, because he is trying to cover everything up. A poltergeist may have even been involved. You see where I'm going with this, right? He moved the headstones but he left the bodies. How could I be so stupid?! We had to get out of there, now!

Thankfully Baby isn't crazy. She explained that life is not, in fact, television. There was most likely a much simpler explanation, and it probably didn't involve the supernatural or some class of plague. So I called my landlord and told him I was concerned about the threatening letters (I certainly didn't tell him I was opening them, I said they "looked" threatening. And he actually bought that shit. I may never pay the rent on time again). I asked him bluntly what had happened, and he explained that they'd gotten a divorce and moved away. Stupid Baby, always right about everything. Their marriage fell apart because they were having financial problems, the neighbors didn't say anything cause they'd probably heard them fighting all the time. It all makes perfect sense, and I have to admit I was a bit disappointed.

This didn't, of course, stop me from opening their mail. I needed to know why, precisely, they had gotten a divorce. I wasn't about to give up on my mystery simply because it had actually been solved. Pretending is fun. And hello, I'd already gotten a free Playboy magazine out of the deal.

So last night I came home from work and checked the mail, and there was a big fat manila envelope in the box. Big surprise, it wasn't addressed to us. It was suspiciously plain, bearing only the simple message "Free gift offer inside." Needless to say I almost ran to our apartment to open it.

Again, disappointment. OK yeah, sure, it was filled with porn. But goddamnit, it was gay porn. An entire catalog, filled with pictures of men doing things to men that I didn't even know men did to men. Hell, I didn't know women did that kind of thing to men. So I rubbed one out. I mean threw it away! Phew, close one. Anyway no really, I threw it away. And I kinda buried it in the kitchen trash just in case anyone might see it. I wouldn't want anyone to find out I was looking at a gay porn catalog. Anyone besides, I dunno, the entire Internet.

But then it dawns on me, "My god those gay dudes are in good shape." And THEN it dawns on me- "Dude, their marriage fell apart because she found out he was gay!"

Proud of my sleuth skills that would put Encyclopedia Brown (a known gay porn aficionado) to shame, I opened a beer. I notice I've yet to throw the empty manila envelope away, so I pick it up and realize I've made a terrible mistake. The envelope wasn't addressed to the no wife-having, no money-having, no tax-paying, no straight porn-wanking ex tenant. It was addressed to the guy in the apartment next to me, and put in my mailbox by mistake.

Dagger!

So now what the hell am I supposed to do? Knock on his door? Explain that I'm concerned he might be missing out on whatever his free gift is? Slide it under his door? What if he happens to be standing there right as I do it? How weird will it look if I he catches me slinking away after I've obviously looked at his porn? Especially considering it's gay, and he's met Baby and knows I'm straight. I thought about it, and even if it were straight porn I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable knocking on his door. I've written about the weird midget porn that kept showing up at my place. I damn sure wouldn't want my neighbor dropping by to let me know he'd accidentally happened upon that. What should I do? I mean besides fetch it from the trash and explain to Baby that I need to keep it in my bathroom until I decide what to do.