The Girl Called Rachel

I’m glad there is an obvious “Draft” button available…

I’m going to read this January 15-21, 2009 issue of Time Out with the lipstick-kissed Barack Obama on the cover.

Is that a siren?

Is that a siren?

Is that a car alarm? It’s unsteady and breaking into song intermittently, but it has the right tone. Imagine your car alarm being a screeching electronic version of My Heart Will Go On. That’ll get some attention…

I can’t read a magazine while watching TV. It’s like my eyes need to work on one thing and my ears will be the ones being entertained. What music should I listen to…

What the fuck is happening out there? Is someone breaking into my house?

“I don’t envy you at that!” harharhar

Why the fuck do I not have a peephole! That is dangerous and inconvenient at a time like this. Isn’t this illegal? I’m so glad–

(For more of that story, please refer to Julia Rosendale’s wall.)

Hey I just called you and left a message of me holding the phone up to my door. There’s a lot of stuff going on directly outside my apartment, banging (trying to break into an apartment) ((I assume the resident of that apartment, but I don’t have a peephole and I’m not going to go outside to check.)) (((Isn’t it illegal to not have a peephole in …  Read MoreNYC?))) ((((I can smell a conflict in race relations in our near future, me not included)))) (((((There are a lot of footsteps and voices of neighbors that are freaking me out))))) ((((((There may soon be several men on my fire escape))))))(((((((And the front door is wide open in this subzero chill, the source of one of the conflicts.)))))))
So I may soon be pillaged or frozen to death and I wanted someone to have aural evidence, but I don’t think you heard anything.
((((((…I just realized I feel pretty well schizophreniac right now….))))))))))))))))))))))))
ps. I called you because I knew you wouldn’t pick up.

I feel like I can’t watch tv or listen to music, because I don’t want anyone to know I am in here. I’ll be forced outside to… Wait. What would I do? I certainly couldn’t break down the door if my linebacking neighbor was unsuccessful. So why do I need to feel guilty about about not going out to put in my 2¢.

How does this even happen without someone changing the locks on you? Or even then, really. Isn’t that what a locksmith is for? To open any lock?

Did someone do this to him? Is he in some kind of dramatic entanglement?

Is that a saw? It’s definitely something motorized. I guess that’s the sound of the locksmith’s pièce de résistance.

I could probably sue my landlord for some of my rent money back… Give me a damn peephole.

Oh wait. Maybe the neighborly thing to do was invite him in from the cold hallway while he waited for the locksmith. Prepare him a cup of coffee and a let him warm up. Who knows where he has just come from? “I was just walking home from my weekend volunteering at the soup kitchen. And I  got to my door and realized this little lock was about to cause me a heap of trouble. How gosh darn unlucky! Shucks, I knew I should have picked up that heads-up penny! But I don’t want to worry the locksmith. I’ll just break down the door with the brunt of my own shoulder, to the discontent of all my neighbors, and repair the door jamb on my own nickel.”

But isn’t my apartment feeling arctic? And the last time I was in the hallway the temperature was very comfortable… Maybe I should go out there…

Besides, he’s probably just getting home from his most recent one-night stand with a girl from Hoboken…

I just realized our doors are metal. He’s going to break the wall before he breaks the door. And then we’ll have construction going on for who knows long on my three-day weekend.

I think he’s in and listening to music to calm down. A little loud, guy… Now that he’s shaken the foundation of our building for two hours, I guess he doesn’t worry about making too much noise…

Note the scarf on inside.

Note the scarf on inside.

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