LICK IT OFF

She said, ‘you’ll find the kids have been playing in the lift...’
...I thought she was talking about the caramel paste I was looking at at my eye level by the door and on the glass protects the lift camera...
‘...they’ve pressed from seven up to the top so it’ll stop at each one.’
‘Little sods,’ I said, ‘bastards.’
As I’d pulled into the car park I’d seen her walk wearing leathers and a bike helmet from one of the garages.
I almost said, ‘send the lift back down, will you?’ didn’t and when I got there carrying new futon, duvet, and bedding still in the plastic packaging she was stood waiting her finger on the door open button.
‘Did it stop at every floor on the way down?’ I said.
‘Yes.’
After she’d got out I saw, in a corner of the lift, an empty Nutella jar with a table fork upright and the remains of the same caramel paste in it it looked like was on the walls.
‘Where do they get off doing something like that?’ I thought.
Where they got out was on my floor. The same paste was smeared on mine and another’s front door.
I feel really pissed off about it and imagined, when I was inside the flat, catching one of them who’d done it, grabbing them by the neck and pushing their face up against my door into the paste shouting, ‘LICK IT OFF YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT.’