Slum Lorded

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Never mind that the faucets for both the bathroom sink and the tub trickle no matter how tightly I twist the knobs to the right. On the bright side, the drains don’t clog. Even brighter, I don’t pay the water bill. And never mind that I hear every step made by the neighbor above. (And I don’t mean God.) He likes to drop things. I’m not talking about little thumps and bumps or creaks, but rather MAJOR NOISE just about whenever anyone moves around up there. And never mind the blindingly bright porch light next door. It’s left on all night and it’s aimed directly at my window. (Deliberately, of course.) And never mind that the lovely young lass next door doesn’t care who can hear her having sex. And I can’t say I’m a huge fan of so many uninvited guests—viz., the ants, the silverfish, the cockroaches, and the millipedes. I believe I’ve been quite tolerant of all the noisy human slobs who are, unfortunately, my neighbors. But surely they’re worse off than I am. Why else would they be living in this shithole? And if I didn’t need to use packing tape to prevent the wall that holds my window from crumbling any further, I’d probably stay. It’s the cheapest apartment north of the Loop. 

25 September 2001

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