The people who live in the apartment above mine are ill-prepared to deal with the mundane issues of life.  Something as simple as bringing home groceries is difficult for them.  You see, they don't understand how to use doors.

The inability to use doors is an affliction all too common in the annals of human history, at least as documented in popular entertainment.  Bo and Luke Duke had it -- and thus were doomed to a lifetime of sliding in and out of the windows of their orange car.  That guy from Laverne and Shirley -- Carmine, was it? -- had it, and thus always entered his friends' apartment from the window.  The original Batman and Robin had it, and were thus incapable of socializing unless they were climbing up the side of a building.

Now, when I bring my groceries or parcels home, it's a simple matter for me to walk down a half flight of stairs, open my door, and carry in my burdens at ground level.  This seems to me to be simple, efficient, and generally free of unnecessary stress.

My neighbors, on the other hand, constantly utilize their balcony.  No amount of goods, be they luggage or items purchased from the outside world, can be brought in through the doorway -- which I assume to be functional, though I suppose it could be bricked up.  Instead, my neighbors construct an elaborate system of ramps and pulleys through which their cargo is lifted, dragged, pushed, and thrown from the front lawn to their living quarters.

During a recent cargo loading process, I heard the husband half of the couple proclaim, "Okay, it's starting to rain.  I'm coming up."  Keep in mind that he is approximately three feet from his balcony when he says this.  The stress created by the terrible burdens of both coming in out of the rain and climbing back into his apartment were almost too much for him.  I could hear the defeat, the resignation, in his voice.  He sounded like a soldier in a Vietnam War movie contemplating being "short," his emotions in turmoil as he prepared to leave behind the land that would forever haunt him.  I felt at once sorrow, pity, and compassion for this man, who works so hard to transport retail goods from his Chevrolet Cavalier to the space in which he and his wife live.