Thursday, August 25, 2005

A Few of The New Yorkers I Have Met So Far.

Shelley: Mid 30's, goofy non-chalant. I don't think she would have minded if I were to breed piglets in my room, so long as I didn't ask her to remove her Monet's from the living room walls. She was the first person I met who is "freelancing," which seems more like a lie one tells oneself to keep from panicking in times of unemployment.

Brian: "I had this one tenant who I sweaaar was suiciduhl. This one time he turned the stove on and just stahted cookin olive oil, tryin to smoke us out or somthin'. I was this close to cahllin' up my old Italian buddies in the neighbahood, but ya know, I'm oldah now. I wouldn't do that anyma." Cordially, he called me back yesterday to see if I was still interested.

Troy:

Adam: So, how is the neighborhood here?

Troy: Williamsburg IS the center of culture. Everyone knows this. Williamsburg. (Blank stare out the 2nd story window). Williamsburg. It all starts in Williamsburg. New York, Manhattan...they want to be Williamsburg. They'll never be Williamsburg. (Focusing his druggy wolf eyes, looking far past me into the distance). This is the cutting edge of hipness. Williamsburg. Williamsburg.

Jo, Sasha:
Nothing bad to say. Carpet from under my feet. I really wish it would have worked out. "We like to have fun, but we realize we're not in college anymore." And that refrigerator. OH GOD. That refrigerator was sexy! I've got a budding thing for stainless steel. And plants, they had green in their apartment and it was not mildew. I've got to get over this.

Dan: I had high hopes for Dan, mostly because he lived caddy-corner to a colorful brunch place. Dan bobbed his head spastically and intensely, up down up down, narrowing his eyes as he looked deeply at me. He resembled Conan O'Brien, shorter by about 7 inches and albino. The apartment rang of Journey. "The wheel in the sky keeps on turning." Dan said, "I'm not paranoid but I just need to know cause I'm straight, are you straight?" I said thanks, and headed towards the door, ducking my head so I wouldn't bump the speedbag hanging in the hallway.

No comments: