When my dad buys property, he’ll always go straight to the higher floors. I watched him do this and it obviously works as investments, but I never really got it growing up because I thought Hmmm you’ll be waiting the longest for and whilst in the lift… But that was the reality; the higher the floor, the more expensive. And a lot of people care about the views they get; the view of our KL towers, even a little point at the top covered by trees, demands a premium price.
Dean and I got married in 2012 and we rented the ground floor of an apartment. Start small, we thought, this is nice. Same sentiment from the rats in the surrounding “garden view” we had. You guys remember my rats story right? *shudder* Moved out immediately. Now we are renting on a slightly higher floor in an apartment in the city. Still far from the top floor, but it’s okay, we can just frame up a picture of the KL towers on our window and pretend that’s our premium view. One day, maybe, we can afford the top floor rates.
Tonight, my whole perspective has changed.
So I came home, carrying my some plastic bags on one arm, and the other arm carrying a heavy Daniel. He fell asleep in the car, so there he was, drooling on my left shoulder. The right shoulder was occupied by the handle of my handbag, also heavy with contents like baby wipes and stupid coins (and why the heck do I need two giant phones, I was questioning my intelligence just now).
I walked (fumbled) into the lobby and was about to press the Up button for the lift when I realised all of the lift doors were open. I looked at the guard, and he lazily replied, “Lift spoiled,” in that same familiar insincere tone he’d say “Good night,” every night.
NO WAY ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME.
He pointed to the staircase door.
I pointed to the Up button again. Repeatedly. Desperately.
But fast forward, I found myself climbing up the stairs to my apartment floor. Annoyed, of course. Arms about to fall off, taking breaks in between… I mean seriously after G it should just be 1. WHAT THE HELL IS MEZZANINE FLOOR. THAT’S JUST MORE STAIRS FOR ME.
By the 3rd floor, I was sweating, panting, basically in no condition I’d like the public to see. This one Korean guy sprinted past me and I thought he was the biggest show off ever. I know you probably love walking and all, I see you around in your sportswear but now is not the time, dude. Now is the time for you to offer to carry my bags for me. Or carry me.
After what seemed like a year, I finally arrived on my floor. Never been so happy to see my apartment door.
So yes, tonight is the night the 1st floor people laugh at the penthouse brats upstairs who never smile. I’m about to go to bed now, but they probably haven’t reached their floor yet. Teehee.