Tuesday, August 08, 2023


On my early morning walk smoking a pipe I noticed that there is a 'for rent' sign on my block. This is the first time in years that has happened. Naturally I am hoping that the new tenant is not an attractive person with a sparkling personality, but someone reasonably mature, maybe with a cat (real or imaginary). Someone who will say "I'm sorry, you can't come home with me, ever, because 'Rabid Rutabaga' doesn't like other people, he'll rip you to shreds".
Then give a fake phone number and leave the cocktail party alone.

The party apartment directly opposite my building is on it's fourth change of tenants since the pandemic started. The groundfloor digs in the building next door to that has had too many occupants to count, one of which was a depressed person who stayed in her bed all day looking out the window for three months.

On the other hand, the trim elderly Chinese gentleman who looks like a former navy pilot, who lives up the street and looks perkier than ever, is still here, the old lady who waters flowers is still here, the old ladies in one of the buildings are too.

At least one of the frat boys is dead now.
Which is no great loss.

There are the fixtures, as well as the fly-by-night types.
So, someone calm, rational, reasonably well-behaved.
The advantage of a cat ('Rabid Rutabaga', for instance) is that it does not need to be walked at set times to poo. Unlike Fluffy and Butch, who do so as much and as often as a child. And whom I encounter in the early morning while outside, either the end of them I don't wish to observe, or, sometimes, the evidence of their having been there which I step around.
Mind you, I like dogs. Inside.

The entire outdoors, unfortunately, is their crapper.

I'm smoking there.

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