This has been an interesting summer in my new hood. Actually, when I look back, I should have been more suspicious when I answered the ad that said "artists and musicians welcome." We are probably the only type who could put up with a block like this.
It's not that it's bad, no. That's not it at all. We just traded our crappy apartment in a quiet neighborhood for an amazing floor through brownstone in a....not so quiet neighborhood.
Just to give you a picture of the atmosphere around here, it's a court street, meaning dead end. The street itself isn't wide enough to turn a car around in. In fact, the sidewalks are part of the parking spaces because it's that shallow. My point is, you can see and hear everything...because it's smaaaaallllll.
So my first battle was with domino guys. They sit outside every single day and night playing dominoes and blasting some of the weirdest music. When I say weird I mean for one hour they'll play reggae and then out of nowhere...SHAZAM! Cyndi Lauper. Hey, domino guys just wanna have fun too.
To the right and directlly ahead of me are familys, including neighbor lady who is the "bitch o' the block". I actually really like her, she's bizarre and calls the cops when the music is still blasting at 2am so I don't have to. Last night, at midnight mind you, I learned she can also hand saw a 2x4 like nobody's business. Both freakin' weird and awe inspiring.
My building, you guessed it, "artists and musicians", and most still with the mental capacity of college kids. This is where we get to the photo above.
First you should know, I used to love the gals directly below me. The baked us banana bread when we moved in. Who does that anymore? I found out it was a clever ruse only to cover up their incessant door slamming and disgusting stoop habits (cig butts EVERYWHERE). I sweep that stoop myself only to come out the next morning and find another pack stubbed out on the steps.
So one day, this damn kiddy pool just magically appeared. I hate kiddy pools. You know why? Because no one ever takes care of them and Hello Mcfly! they breed mosquitos. On top of this pool, there was a GIGANTIC bushy weed growing so in order to get to the mailbox, I had to shove said weedy bush aside and it would dip into the kiddy pool and whap back at me, then soaking me in month old kiddy pool sludge...and (I convinced myself) mosquito babies.
Okay okay, so 2 days ago the landlord showed up and finally rid us of that terrible weed. Huzzah! But wait! The pool! Come back! It's still there! Who's damn pool is this anyway? I had my suspicions of course, but being the chump that I am, I decided not to go knocking on doors and just let a story form.
Today I went outside and found this beautifuly crafted passive aggressive note. It reads:
Dear berry bush -
I miss you! Just when I thought we were getting close - they came and hacked you to shreds before my very eyes. The pain is too much! I can only hope that someone will PLEASE deflate me and put me in a closet or in a garbage somewhere so I can be out of my wet miserable existance!
Sorry it has to be this way!
Love Pool
I love you Brooklyn.
Oh and P.S. to the guy (whom I love) that wrote this. You are one sneaky bastard writing this in such a feminine handwriting.
It's not that it's bad, no. That's not it at all. We just traded our crappy apartment in a quiet neighborhood for an amazing floor through brownstone in a....not so quiet neighborhood.
Just to give you a picture of the atmosphere around here, it's a court street, meaning dead end. The street itself isn't wide enough to turn a car around in. In fact, the sidewalks are part of the parking spaces because it's that shallow. My point is, you can see and hear everything...because it's smaaaaallllll.
So my first battle was with domino guys. They sit outside every single day and night playing dominoes and blasting some of the weirdest music. When I say weird I mean for one hour they'll play reggae and then out of nowhere...SHAZAM! Cyndi Lauper. Hey, domino guys just wanna have fun too.
To the right and directlly ahead of me are familys, including neighbor lady who is the "bitch o' the block". I actually really like her, she's bizarre and calls the cops when the music is still blasting at 2am so I don't have to. Last night, at midnight mind you, I learned she can also hand saw a 2x4 like nobody's business. Both freakin' weird and awe inspiring.
My building, you guessed it, "artists and musicians", and most still with the mental capacity of college kids. This is where we get to the photo above.
First you should know, I used to love the gals directly below me. The baked us banana bread when we moved in. Who does that anymore? I found out it was a clever ruse only to cover up their incessant door slamming and disgusting stoop habits (cig butts EVERYWHERE). I sweep that stoop myself only to come out the next morning and find another pack stubbed out on the steps.
So one day, this damn kiddy pool just magically appeared. I hate kiddy pools. You know why? Because no one ever takes care of them and Hello Mcfly! they breed mosquitos. On top of this pool, there was a GIGANTIC bushy weed growing so in order to get to the mailbox, I had to shove said weedy bush aside and it would dip into the kiddy pool and whap back at me, then soaking me in month old kiddy pool sludge...and (I convinced myself) mosquito babies.
Okay okay, so 2 days ago the landlord showed up and finally rid us of that terrible weed. Huzzah! But wait! The pool! Come back! It's still there! Who's damn pool is this anyway? I had my suspicions of course, but being the chump that I am, I decided not to go knocking on doors and just let a story form.
Today I went outside and found this beautifuly crafted passive aggressive note. It reads:
Dear berry bush -
I miss you! Just when I thought we were getting close - they came and hacked you to shreds before my very eyes. The pain is too much! I can only hope that someone will PLEASE deflate me and put me in a closet or in a garbage somewhere so I can be out of my wet miserable existance!
Sorry it has to be this way!
Love Pool
I love you Brooklyn.
Oh and P.S. to the guy (whom I love) that wrote this. You are one sneaky bastard writing this in such a feminine handwriting.
I love YOU, Brooklyn!