skeletons all look alike
Despite all my effort, this world refuses to let me leave it alone.
This morning my doorbell rang at 10:30, I ignored it, went back to sleep with a head still half full of rum. It rang again an hour later, this time I got up (with a head no less full) to see what the noise was all about, it was the dude who lives down hall, he comes by once a week asking for cigarettes, I always oblige him, and this morning was no exception.
I easily went back to sleep. I've never had a problem with this guy, his requests always seem to be clothed in embarrassment, which is something I can understand.
An hour later I'm woken again, but by someone beating on my door this time. To stop the noise I get up and go through the routine again, but this time there's this kid standing out there, maybe five years old, all dirty, staring at me... before I've the time to process the scene, a girl swings around the corner, and half yelling blurts out, "Where's Wendy at?"
"I don't know who Wendy is."
"She ain't here then."
"No, she's not here"
"Do you know where she went?"
"She's never been here, in fact, in all my life I've never known a woman by the name of Wendy"
"All right then," she says very suspiciously, and reluctantly leaves.
I turned on the Blue Jays game.
... Just the other week at about midnight I answered another ringing doorbell. Behind the door this time was a girl in her pyjamas looking very upset. I barely get the chance to say hello before she's asking me about my loud electric guitar playing.
"I'm having a very hard time sleeping with you playing your guitar like that," she says.
"I'm sorry that you can't sleep, but I don't own an electric guitar, you must be looking for somebody else."
"Well, it's awfully loud, I wish you'd keep it down." she clearly did not hear a word I had just said.
"Look, I'm not being prick, I'm not playing a guitar, and I've not been listening to music either, the noise that you're hearing must be coming from elsewhere."
"Really, well, it's awfully loud" And as she's saying this her eyes are scanning my apartment for the guitar she knows is there.
How can I make this any clearer for her, I'm thinking, "Well," I say, "look, you can come in if you want, there's no guitar here"
And, she does, it's amazing, the whole time I was talking to her she was utterly convinced that I was boldfaced liar. So she walks in peeks around, "hmmm., I wonder where the noise is coming from then" and coldly apologizes as she leaves.
And the strange thing about all that had just happened was that I couldn't shake the feeling that she still in some way blamed me for her discomfort.
This morning my doorbell rang at 10:30, I ignored it, went back to sleep with a head still half full of rum. It rang again an hour later, this time I got up (with a head no less full) to see what the noise was all about, it was the dude who lives down hall, he comes by once a week asking for cigarettes, I always oblige him, and this morning was no exception.
I easily went back to sleep. I've never had a problem with this guy, his requests always seem to be clothed in embarrassment, which is something I can understand.
An hour later I'm woken again, but by someone beating on my door this time. To stop the noise I get up and go through the routine again, but this time there's this kid standing out there, maybe five years old, all dirty, staring at me... before I've the time to process the scene, a girl swings around the corner, and half yelling blurts out, "Where's Wendy at?"
"I don't know who Wendy is."
"She ain't here then."
"No, she's not here"
"Do you know where she went?"
"She's never been here, in fact, in all my life I've never known a woman by the name of Wendy"
"All right then," she says very suspiciously, and reluctantly leaves.
I turned on the Blue Jays game.
... Just the other week at about midnight I answered another ringing doorbell. Behind the door this time was a girl in her pyjamas looking very upset. I barely get the chance to say hello before she's asking me about my loud electric guitar playing.
"I'm having a very hard time sleeping with you playing your guitar like that," she says.
"I'm sorry that you can't sleep, but I don't own an electric guitar, you must be looking for somebody else."
"Well, it's awfully loud, I wish you'd keep it down." she clearly did not hear a word I had just said.
"Look, I'm not being prick, I'm not playing a guitar, and I've not been listening to music either, the noise that you're hearing must be coming from elsewhere."
"Really, well, it's awfully loud" And as she's saying this her eyes are scanning my apartment for the guitar she knows is there.
How can I make this any clearer for her, I'm thinking, "Well," I say, "look, you can come in if you want, there's no guitar here"
And, she does, it's amazing, the whole time I was talking to her she was utterly convinced that I was boldfaced liar. So she walks in peeks around, "hmmm., I wonder where the noise is coming from then" and coldly apologizes as she leaves.
And the strange thing about all that had just happened was that I couldn't shake the feeling that she still in some way blamed me for her discomfort.
posted by j/r at 11:25 p.m.
1 Comments:
You commented on my blog.
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-k.<3
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