The drive was uneventful. City isn't quite awake at that hour, daytime people are stealing a few more minutes of slumber while nighttime people have finally stumbled off and put their heads down, you can get away with a lot if you look like you fit in well enough. I'm just a guy carrying a couple of bags and a lamp wrapped up loosely in a blanket, end of the month, must be moving in, getting a start on the day. You know a I'm a guy, my clothing's carefully ambiguous and I walk with a bit of a swagger, just enough to tip the scale. You know the bags aren't too heavy, I've got them in one hand. You know it's a lamp, it's got a lampshade sticking out the barrel.
Cross the parking lot without notice. Frob the fob and smack the assisted device patch, door whirrs open and I'm in the back loading bay. Loading elevator flips to service with a quick rake job, straight to top floor, short walk to the flat and then open the door, nothing but net:
Neighbor opens his door across from me, carrying his morning's refuse. Looks at my bags. Looks at my 'lamp'.
Looks at me.
Dammit, now I need three bags.