I went first to the door of the neighbor who lived above me and knocked gently.

“Who is it?” a man’s voice asked. I could see him eying me through the peephole. One thing I’ve got going for me is that I look harmless. The door opened. A man in his 60s or 70s peered down at me.

“Hi! I’m your neighbor who lives below you,” I started. “I’m having a little holiday get-together tomorrow, and I wanted to apologize in advance if my friends and I are too noisy.”

“I see,” he said. “I hope you enjoy yourselves.” He studied me for a second. Was I smiling to widely? Was I not smiling enough? “No one has knocked on my door for a very long time,” he said finally.

“Here, I wanted to give you this.” I held out a bottle of Pinot noir which I had carefully tied with a satin bow. “Happy holidays, sir.”

“Oh no I shouldn’t,” he said, reading the label on the bottle. “But thank you, and have a good time tomorrow.” He shut his door. The first thought that came into my head was that he had given up drinking years ago. Maybe he was someone’s AA sponsor. Maybe he just hated Pinot noir. As I turned to walk away, the door opened again. “Actually, I think I’ll take it.”

I smiled.