So this afternoon I had to go drop something off with the building manager. He is an old school Hungarian guy and he always calls me honey, or sweetie, and has on a few occasions waaay overstepped with the grabbing my face in his hands or the offering of the cherry kirsch or that type of thing.
Anyway I call him to see if it's ok to come down and he tells me he just walked in the door with some groceries he needs to put away, he's all hot and sweaty, whatever. So I tell him I'll be down in half an hour or so. Twenty minutes later he calls me and tells me he's ready whenever I want to stop by. Fine, good.
So I go down there—and bear in mind I was paying him for something in cash so I needed to get a receipt—and he opens the door and beckons me in. Whenever you knock on his door he always wants you to come in and sit down and shoot the breeze; he's extremely talkative. So as I step in and sit down I observe all he's wearing are boxers and a white t-shirt. That's weird, right? I mean there wasn't a gaping fly or anything but they were still boxers.
The interaction was the typical rambling stories and multiple attempts to get me to stay and drink a glass of wine but whatever; I can handle myself. I just thought, though, should I have encouraged him to go put some pants on? Maybe his mind is going.