First they said that Tony, the guy in the front unit, sometimes likes to use the bathroom late at night. His bathroom window is directly outside our bedroom window. So when he flips the lights on at 3AM and starts to bang around in his bathroom, its like spotlight is shinning right into our bedroom. That and it sounds like the entire North Korean Army is marching around. Actually the North Korean Army Syndrome is not limited to Tony's bathroom. The marching is everywhere. Our upstairs neighbor Matthew likes to pace around. I myself like to pace. If you ever see me on the phone i can't stop walking around, but he seems to do it ALL THE TIME. It would not be a big deal, but the floors creek with EVERY step you take.
But none of this is really the crown jewel of the new apartment. The best part is the neighbor directly across the hall. John said, "she's needy". Kate said "she's nice". They are both full of shit. I was unpacking my car yesterday. I make a few trips back and forth. First trip. Neighbor's door is closed. Second trip. Neighbor's door is cracked open. Third trip. Neighbor is out in the courtyard on her cell phone. Fourth trip. Neighbor is out in the courtyard on her cell phone... crying. As i pass her on the fourth trip back into my house, she gets off the phone conveniently just as i pass her (still crying). She starts to talk to me, but her timing was a little off, cause i think she's still on the phone. I get all the way to my door when she finally catches up to me (still crying). So she starts talking. I am holding VERY HEAVY steel supports for one of my tables and trying to get my door open. She's blathering about some guy and clearing the tears from her eyes. I quickly get the door open, set the shit down in the house and then get back outside where she's still talking about the guy. She only will refer to him as "jack" short for jackass. She invites me into her apartment (which is not a really good idea on her part cause i stink like shit, and my smell is contagious as the plague). She asks me to sit down (red flag), then offers me a glass of wine (red flag), then asks me if i am married (RUN!!! GET OUT!!! RUN AWAY NOW!). Ok, so it comes down to this. I don't have to disclose all the details that she dropped on me, but I got cornered for a good amount of time where i heard about EVERYTHING going on in her life. I think to Ed Norton in Fight Club, "Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one." After dumping all the details of her life, she turned to the "guy" that was helping me move my things into my apartment the previous day. There were two men helping me the day before, and i know she's not talking about my father. So that means yet another woman has swooned for my brother. I inform her that he is happily taken. Her reaction is much like that of Dick Tracy. Her arm swings down as she snaps her fingers and yells, "damn!". She pushes for details of his life and asks if i could set up a dinner with him. I tell her again that he is happy. She asks about his girlfriend. I tell her AGAIN that he's happy. THEN MY SAIVOR ARRIVES. Doug, who lives in another apartment upstairs walks by with two huge armloads of groceries. She races over to introduce me. Doug has the look on his face like, "Oh fuck she caught me. Now i am going to have to talk to her for an hour" We shake hands and he races away as quick as he possibly can, and at that point in the break of the conversation I make my break for it. I explain that i have some undisclosed business to attend to and need to get going. She left me with one standing order as i left. If i know anybody that wants to date a 50-year-old, three times divorced woman with no children, please send em her way. I can say without a doubt that John and Kate Bell are both laughing their asses off. Thanks you two.
Monday July 28th 2003 10:27 AM PST
I’m a very familiar face in this town.
A day doesn’t go by that I don’t meet
a lot of my friends walking down the street.
I’m never too busy to stop by the way
and I’ve always got something pleasant to say.
Maybe some perceptive thoughts about the weather
or the latest news from Wall Street, whatever.
I could stand around all day making small talk
gushing platitudes, blocking the sidewalk
tying people up for hours with ease,
my one big talent is shooting the breeze.
When they start to squirm, I really get going
but only my happy-face smile is showing.
Why can’t they see what I’m trying to hide,
I’m bustin’ a gut, laughing on the inside.
It’s in their smile when I say hello
I can see they think I’m a little bit slow.
But after a while with me, they look dazed
their eyes covered with a donut glaze.
I really start to cook when I see that look
I hit ‘em with every cliché in the book.
Their knees wobble and they start to weave
it’s like they’re begging for permission to leave,
they think they are having a brush with stupidity
I don’t laugh, even though it’s killing me.
Watching them wilt like day-old flowers
Ticking off the minutes as they turn to hours.
They are wondering how much more they can take
I give ‘em a friendly smile and a handshake.
We say goodbye so very politely
Now say hello to the killer inside me.
Everybody has their doubts about my sanity
But nothing happens ‘cause they all feel sorry for me
I’ve got the whole town under my thumb
and all I’ve gotta do is keep acting dumb.
"Oh that boy Lou" they say "what a guy,
a little on the slow side but wouldn’t hurt a fly"
"and such a gentleman!" "Oh yes I know.
he sure can talk your ear off though!"
I tip my hat and pretend I don’t hear
grinning like a half-wit from ear to ear
I can think of a thousand ways to say hello
so I start through ‘em all, and go real slow.
They listen hard, and act like they care.
How can they be so completely unaware
of the truth the answer is always denied me -
so I introduce them to the killer inside me.
Monday July 28th 2003 11:09 AM PST
Monday July 28th 2003 12:27 PM PST
Tuesday July 29th 2003 07:08 AM PST
