Tuesday, February 20, 2007

aye de mi ...

my landlord has come up with a money-saving option for me: he wants me to move out of my two-bedroom luxury penthouse suite and into the downstairs, one bedroom hovel. that way he can jack the rent in apartment two, and give me a 75 dollar discount to be the first door that rapists bust through.

he is finds my rent payment plan tiresome. some people don't respect creativity. at. all.

at first i agreed. i was at about .35 and i'll agree to a lot of things with the right blood alcohol content. then the tediusness of all that carrying started to weigh on me. so then i decided i didn't want to live downstairs. now he says i don't have a choice.

sneaks and biggie, while at one time romantic enough to share a bed -- loudly and awkwardly, i should add -- are not any longer. so biggie sleeps on the couch and sneaks sleeps in a bed and sometimes other friends crash out on a feather mattress in the dining room and once i saw scrubs doing her hair in front of a mirror in the living room. all those people. one bedroom. they made a lot of really sad movies in the '80s about this sort of lifestyle.

and since they are pedestrian enough to pay their rent in full in a timely fashion, my landlord thinks they should be rewarded.

"they deserve to live upstairs," he said.

ugh.

now when he mentions it, i pull a classic manuever. rub my temples and say: "really, landlord. can we not talk about this right now? i'm crabby and i have a headache and now just isn't a good time."

and then as soon as the topic switches, i am cured and again ready to contribute.

apartment one has its advantages. and as your own personal pollyanna, these are the things i will try to focus on: it has an area that i will use as a dance floor. in my third duluth apartment i had a dance floor and i miss those intimate moments with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, spinning and gyrating to the song "everlong." and it has a large kitchen with actual countertops and apparently this goes well with the concept that i sort of kinda want to cook a little bit. there are two entrances, so when the rapist does come aknockin', i have options for ways to elude him. it has access to the basement -- where i can rollerblade in circles while listening to lionel richie. sneaks painted it. and i will never again have to look at the wilderness scene border in my living room.

futbol lived downstairs. this can only mean that some mornings i will wake and find jcrew drunk, laying on my floor in a peach swimsuit cover up listening to james blunt. sobbing in spanish.

nothing has been firmly established. yet. but i think that with the right amount of cajoling, eye rolling, screeching and angst i may be able to convince my landlord to move all of my stuff ... like he did the time he kicked me out of my second duluth apartment.

3 comments:

nanners said...

all the way from republicana dominica i am laughing my fucking ass off. oh, and my spanish is becoming effing phenomenal so those spanish sobs will be genuine and correct.

p.s. i have been drunk for 82 hours.

futbol said...

there's also the sweet showerhead i bought and the big curtains i left behind. and if you look in the cracks between the carpet and the wall, you can probably find nail clippings from when my arm was broken and jcrew had to trim my toenails.
also, when jcrew sobers up she might realize she's actually in republica dominicana, not republicana dominica. i think i like her version better.

chuck said...

I predict that when she sobers up she'll realize she's in Haiti.