Pete shook the other man's hand and nodded once, "Peter Kelly, I'm in eleven-oh-four," he said forcing a polite smile. Old habits died hard, and despite the mood he was in, being rude to a neighbor still wasn't okay. Unless the particular neighbor happened to be the vampire on the penthouse level.
"Hasn't been a great one," he answered easily and took another drink of his beer. "Where I come from they write country songs about days like today," he said sighing and shrugging his shoulders.