Neighborhood Watch

Remember my neighbor, whom I accused of being a stalker?
We’ll call him Sam.
Yesterday morning Sam is down at his car, getting in it as I approach down the stairs.
“Good morning, nice suit,” he says.
“Hi, nice tie,” I say.
“Have a good day.”
“Ok, you too.”
The end. Ok, well not really.
Later that night, a loud knock on the door.
Roommate is in room talking on phone.
I see him standing outside with a measuring cup in hand. I let him in.
He wants to borrow some sugar—for coffee.
We have a nice, normal casual conversation, but who actually borrows sugar anymore?
Although a tad cliché, I admire the guy for his efforts.
After all, they give me a story to tell.
But now he’s moving elsewhere in the complex to a bigger apartment.
I think I might actually miss Sam the Stalker.