Culture on the Cheap
Before we got married, my husband professed to do a lot of things. Cleaning, cooking and administering back rubs immediately come to mind. I have since learned better. I pretty much do the first two tasks nowadays.
Cooking and cleaning can make a girl tired and achy. Thankfully help is only a subway ride away on Avenue A.
As I have mentioned on previous occasions, I had a crack head as a neighbor at my former apartment. After the usual tom foolery, e.g.; drug-fueled screaming, leaving his apartment door open so as to perfume the hallways with the smell of FERMENTED SHIT, and having visitors at all hours he would find himself in the need of a good massage. To this end he would use a column at the entrance of our apartment building to give himself a good rub down.
I once saw him doing this when I was coming home one Saturday afternoon. It was a sight I will not soon forget. He sort of reminded of a video I once saw at the San Diego Zoo. If a panda could be a crack head, that is. Pandas smell better.
P.S.: On a completely unrelated note, I’d like to give props to my buddy Bob over at the Gowanus Lounge on his first day at Curbed.com as a full-timer! Congrats. This, your, sinecure is long overdue.