8/23/05: Nobody Puts Swayze in a Corner

I got a couple of emails today checking to see if I was OK. I guess, through my own unclear writing style, yesterday's post made it sound like I was depressed.

Nothing could be further from the truth. My life is cruising along so well I feel like I should look around every few minutes just to appreciate how good I've got it. I am truly, truly happy. I'm so happy I keep listening for the other shoe to drop. I totally didn't mean to make it seem like I was unhappy or ungrateful or anything like that.

The intended message of yesterday's post could have been said much better in one sentence: "What a drag it is getting old." But somebody else already said that, I think.

Nobody ever got the musicvideoimitatedat, until yesterday, when BC MI wrote in with the this comment:

"I'm loving the Milli Vanilli homage pics. I'm not sure what you were doing, but I was bringing in elements from Blame it on the Rain and Girl You Know it's True."

That's right, the answer we were looking for was "Blame It on the Rain" by Milli Vanilli! There was a ridiculous scene in that video where Rob and Fab go to an art gallery wearing fancy clothes and they basically rub their chins and point at all the paintings as if they are absorbing deep waves of meaning from each one.  So BC MI gets the ten points, EVEN THOUGH he was one of the two guys performing the musicvideoimitatetdat in the first place. Somebody needed to get the points and I never told BC MI he wasn't eligible.

Even though I am happy as hell, I do have a couple of complaints, and one fear:

Complaint #1: My slide during Sunday night's softball game was almost criminally stupid. Especially because a) I've made it a point over the years to make fun of all the other dipshits who slide while wearing shorts during pickup softball games, and b) I was out on the play. Now I have a huge freakin' raspberry on my shin, and the knee is also bruised up. I would say I have an abrasion, a contusion, and I am all numb and stingy.  Seriously, I think it's already infected and it's giving me the fever. Like maybe I have meningitis of the shin bone or something. I do this about once a year. I do not learn.

Complaint #2: I now officially think living in Stuyvesant Town sucks. It's not so much that it sucks on its own merits, but it sucks when you remind yourself that they are promoting these shitboxes as "luxury apartments." Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Here are a few things that we've encountered in Stuyvesant Town that most people in "luxury apartments" probably don't have to deal with:

1. The bathroom ceiling has basically collapsed, and we were initially told that it would take SIX MONTHS to fix it. Now it looks like it'll be closer to two. Two months with loose plaster and smelly walls.
2. The toilet also cracked, and the lady at Resident Services angrily insisted that we had a Kohler one piece unit, when our own lying eyes could clearly see that it was a Crane two piece unit. Finally we were able to convince her, after she initially argued, "That's impossible. Your apartment is one of the renovated ones. They all have Kohlers." Speaking of Kohler, the company is located in a city of the same name in Wisconsin. I seem to remember calling it "Toilet Town," on account of all the damn toilets. I knew a dude from there. A big guy, good basketball player, fellow Ticket Office employee. Forgot his name.
3. Dozens of dead waterbugs all over the floor in the lobby and the laundry room. It takes them weeks to sweep the fuckers up. Disgusting.
4. The "bike room" fiasco. When you're checking the place out as a prospective resident, they advertise it as a great place to store your bike, then once you're in, they advise you strongly against putting your bike down there because it will get stolen.
5. A truly filthy laundry room that rarely gets tidied up.
6. Crappy washers and dryers that are rarely serviced.
7. A buzzer system that didn't work the first two weeks we were here.

I guess I knew better. I spent a good year of my life in these parts when I was 16-17, getting into all sorts of trouble. I thought of it as a housing project back then. And that's really what it remains to this day.

Fear #1: I know this is farfetched, but how terrifying would it be if there were packs of gypsies prowling around your office?  I am aware that the term "gypsy" is considered a slur and I shouldn't be using it, but I saw some genuine gypsies when I was in Florence and they were a creepy-ass bunch of people. Doing that scam with the baby and whatnot -- you know, they toss you the baby and then when you reach out to catch it they pick you clean. Yikes. Rotten people. Today I am using the expression "gypsy" to cover all sorts of wandering bands of scammers, including some of those Irish Traveler people. All good nomadic people, I am not talking about you and sorry if I offended.

But imagine if you were at the copy machine and all of a sudden you found yourself surrounded by gypsies? I would crap my pants. The reason I bring it up is that I think I saw a gypsy in our office today. I hope she's alone.

Whodat (14 points)?