The apartment sauna has become the building's loudest networking event

I started using the small sauna in my apartment building after evening workouts. It has two wooden benches, a timer that clicks and a sign asking residents to shower first. There is no rule about conversation.

For the first month, the room was usually quiet. Then a group of neighbors began meeting there on Thursdays. They trade restaurant recommendations, compare rent renewals and ask new arrivals which floor they live on. Last week, someone brought up a job opening and the conversation became an impromptu interview.

They are friendly. That is almost the problem. If I close my eyes, somebody asks whether I am okay. If I give short answers, another person works harder to include me. Silence is interpreted as loneliness rather than the reason I entered the room.

I tried going later, but the posted hours end at 10. I tried headphones and realized that wearing electronics into a hot room was not a workaround I wanted to invent. I can leave, but then the only amenity I use becomes unavailable during the one hour that fits my schedule.

On Thursday, when someone asked what I did for work, I said, “I come in here for quiet, so I am going to zone out for a bit.” He nodded and returned to the group. Nobody seemed offended. Five minutes later, a different neighbor asked which floor I lived on.

Apparently, this boundary will need reruns. I can manage that. I just did not expect relaxation to require the same out-of-office message as my inbox.