It's not the rats that run around outside my window when the super takes the trash out. It's not the seasonal roaches. It's not the lack of sunlight or how it's sometimes hard to get a cell phone signal. I can deal with all that. The Gramercy bunker is a great little crash pad and a writer's den.
I just finished a little bit of writing that took me most of the morning. In an effort to clear my head I turned on the radio and blared a little Rob Thomas. His new song. It's quite nice. I happened to look up at my window and there was some old guy's face, pressing up against the screen that keeps the rats out.
"Excuse me," he said. "Do you know where the super is?"
I turned off the radio. "Well, I can tell you that he doesn't live here." I was snotty.
I think he was embarrassed. He should have been. Instead of ringing a doorbell or using a cell phone, like a civilized person, he practically stuck his head into a stranger's apartment. That stranger happened to be a woman who was wearing a wife beater and a pair of dance pants. What if I hadn't been wearing pants?
"He lives on 19th Street," I finally said. "Maybe you should try calling him."
"Yeah. Sorry, miss." he said.
I need a new apartment because I am tired of people mistaking my little window as either the super's apartment or some sort storage room they can stick their head into. I am particurally interested in the building on the corner of Bowery and Houston. Does anyone live there? How much is a studio/one bedroom? Is there a pool and a gym? I have heard that part of the building shakes when the F train rolls by. Is that true? Please advice.
In the meantime, maybe I need curtains?
