August 24, 2009


A pleasant and jolly landlord who makes jokes in a language he doesn't understand takes checks from us monthly. I'm approaching the one year mark of living above a Chinese food restaurant. There is a red light they keep on in the corner of the store once they've closed, and on Friday nights I can hear the subtle rumbling of music as cigarette smoke billows out of the vent by my front entrance. A man in a suit on a cell phone and another man in running shorts with two prostitutes wait outside the basement door to be let in.
I've always wondered what they're doing down there on Friday nights. I've always wondered if they wonder what I'm doing up here when we drunkenly pour out into the streets.

1 comment:

BrendanGeorge said...

when are you going to party it up with those gambling/drug-dealing basement dwellers. And yes, I can hold your hand on your way out of one world into another as two worlds, for a matter of fact, collide, letting the bodies hit the floor.