Spotted In Bed Stuy: The New World
It has been a rather eventful week for yours truly. While I could go into a blow by blow account methinks the following statistics will suffice. NOTE: save the first bullet point all incidences have come to pass in the last six days;
- Number of days without heat: 55
- Number of visits from HPD: 2
- Number of individuals found smoking heroin on Chez Shitty’s stoop: 1
- Number of times the NYPD has been summoned: 1
- Number of times my upstairs neighbor has called the landlord: 2
- Number of times the landlord called the previously-mentioned woman “pretty”: 1
- Number of electrical outages in the public areas of Chez Shitty’s building: 1
- Number of visits from the Fire Department: 1
The latter most came to pass at 10:30 p.m. Monday night. Yours truly awakened yesterday morning more than a little dazed and confused. I needed some peace and quiet— so I headed to Flushing Avenue without delay. It has been my observation that a walk around Woodhull is therapeutic on such occasions. It is peaceful? No. Quiet? Hardly. But it does makes one feel better about his/her condition, e.g.; it can always be worse. It was on Park Avenue that I spied the following.
I imagine some explanation of what you are looking at is in order. Here it is.
the chap you see at right exclaimed
Would you be happening to be doing laundry? I have happened upon this pair of pants. (holding them up, so as to showcase the hind parts which revealed, um, some not-so-gentle wear and tear and “added value”) As you you can see they have a hole in them. Would you perhaps like to fix them?
The gentleman agreed, threw down a skein of yarn and, well, you can see the rest for yourself.
Just as you are probably are, I was wondering what the fuck was going on. As I was walking away I got my answer:
Welcome to the New World. It is conveniently located next door to Paradise.