One Piece.

I got a call last night from a tenant about a leaky faucet. She was the single women on the fifth floor. I think she is Armenian. Pretty good looking and if I didn't live in the same building I would have asked her out. She has this soft way of talking that makes me feel sleepy but excited. I always know I have good dreams after I talk to her.

Her problem is pretty common. The landlord won't let go of a single red cent, even if it would save me the trouble of climbing Mount Everest. God, how amazing would that be, to stand on the peak and look over the whole world. I bet it's even better than standing on the roof. From here I can see miles. I think I can even see the apartment on fifth where my ex lives. She's a lot like the woman on the fifth floor, she made me dream good dreams.

We went to Florida once, when we thought we loved each other. She always wore the most amazing bathing suits. It always made me horny. Thinking about her still does. There is something so sexy about a one piece bathing suit. I think mystery is the key to romance. Never play your cards, never show your hand. Maybe that dooms romance too.

I think it's a middle road. Like if a woman is too dressed up, she looks impossible to love. But if she's naked, you see to much and it makes it hard to love. You need a little truth and a little lie. A one piece bathing suit is right in the middle.

Maybe all of life is about the middle parts. You can't be a saint, but you shouldn't be a devil. You don't want to be alone, but you don't want to be bothered. Seeing the woman on the fifth floor was perfect. She makes me not feel alone, but I don't have to really deal with her. She gets the benefit of my handy-work, I get the benefits of her soft voice. As long as neither of us is too greedy, we will be fine.

Oh, she give me good dreams.