Monday, January 6, 2014

GOTCHA!



You want my personal information? You want a tale of two cities?

 

Welcome to The Village south of the Bronx border.

 

The new landlords, members of The Hasidim, after much banging on our door finally broke me when they offered a first floor renovated apartment on the other side of the building where they had succeeded on concentrating a majority of long time tenants in The South Bronx of America. The rest of the building was for homeless families.

 

Poor and unemployed people were taken out of shelters thanks to the kindness of taxpayers paying $2,800 monthly per family unit.  The windows lit with Christmas lights became brighter as the courtyard became alive with the laugher of African-American and Hispanic children playing in the snowstorm.

 

New York City, you are awesome.

 

As I type, I got you under my skin, Old Eyes Blue sings from my Win98 Media Player

 

Hasidim shook hands after promising me a lease, a new stove and new refrigerator.

 

After I was given the keys to the mailbox of the apartment, it was off to the post office for a change of address. Finally we can get regular mail service instead of waiting for the female Puerto Rican letter carrier with the dragon tattoos on her legs.

 

A short heavyset Mexican woman in the building politely asked me if I had moved into the apartment yet. Not until they deliver the lease, the stove and fridge, I said with the upbeat smile of a hopeless romantic like Paul Newman in Fort Apache, The Bronx.

 

One day, I went to get my mail and was confused when the key wouldn’t go into the lock. I went upstairs to the apartment and knocked on the door. The Mexican woman said the apartment was now theirs. The Mexicans got the lease and the stove and the refrigerator.

 

Do you have my mail?

 

She closed the door.

 

Old Blue Eyes is now singing South of The Border at random from my Frankie Files.

 

The next time The Hasidim knocked on the door, they saw me dressed like them. (I couldn’t find a yarmulke so I wore a black baseball hat backwards.)

 

What came out of my mouth was sound and fury signifying Oscar Night.

 

Life sucks wonderfully.

 

And now The End is near, croons The Chairman of The Bronx

 

Love you madly, Planet Earth.

 

Bye.

 

 

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