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Tuesday, December 11, 2007

I have to say that I am hesitant to mention to people here that I live on the Upper East Side. At best I get a low whistle and a snarky "fancy!" and at worst I get full on hate-face (see below).

Look, I'm straight off the turnip wagon here, so I don't really know what the UES was like, but I'm guessing from the reactions it was some sort of rich Aryan breeding farm. What I do know is that their reactions do not jibe with my reality on the poorer side of Lexington Ave.

Allow me to state that every day I come home between 6 or 7 p.m. the dude downstairs is smoking some serious weed and listening to
Alice in Chains. There is also a guy with no legs who likes to (literally) gnash his teeth (gums, really) and rock back and forth wailing urgently "WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME GET SOMETHING TO EEEEEAAAT" on the corner of 3rd Avenue on my late nights in. And when I'm really lucky, very late at night, I will catch sight of a woman applying roll-on deodorant in front of the Hungarian butcher shop. Then there are the dialysis patients smoking outside the clinic to greet me in the mornings.

One fateful night Sam and I came home rather late to see a large, awkward form headed towards us. I soon realized it was a transsexual in the style of Buffalo Bill. This wasn't the issue, though. Because all over her white pants was shit. Yes, I saw a poo-caked tranny outside my apartment building.

Like this, only poopier

These are not what I consider adornments of the high life. It's safe, it's clean, and people pay too much in rent - but I think that goes for a few more places than just the UES.

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