You’re the doorman and the depressed milkman who lives on floor 2 enters the door, sliding his ID under the glass — ”Francis.” he says as you scan over the card, ”Next.” you say — He bangs on the glass, ”what a shame, let’s try again.” — Francis puts his hand on the glass, his breath so close it’s fogging up, ”Come on dear let me in, i have plenty of milk.” He replies as he unzips his fly