Este baño no es privado.

One day, I'm in the elevator wearing nothing but a towel and some bits of shaving cream — being one of only two tenants at the time, I feel pretty secure about the low odds of an encounter — when the door (whose default setting is 'open') starts to close behind me. This can mean only one thing: someone will be on the other side when that door re-opens.

(Because my new apartment is presently without a mirror, my routine involves shaving blindly and then proceeding to the elevator to check the mirror there. Inevitably my face is all tufts and nicks after the first rough pass. Using the elevator mirror, I scrape off the last patches and then scramble in my loincloth through the cold to my apartment.)

All Ezekiel Ortiz wanted was to travel without event from the 4th floor to the ground so he could leave in peace after a nice visit to his brother. But he was not so lucky. When the door opened on a half-naked gringo holding a razor and laughing maniacally, Ezekiel gasped and did a little two-step back and forth, unable to believe his eyes. With a garbled explanation in Spanglish and a limp quip about the unavailability of toiletries, the dripping gringo scurried out of the elevator and up the stairs.

First impressions are very important.

When I subsequently met the rest of Ezekiel's family, they (whom I'd never met before) rehashed the shaving encounter with much delight. It was a big hit, really. If ever you have the opportunity to meet someone while shaving in an elevator, then do not hesitate to grasp the chance, for it may increase your popularity.