Working from home
It's not as fun as we like to think it is. I have a to-do list a mile long for work and another for home.
I have to clean out the cat-box as it smells like pee in here.
It's been raining all day and it's kind of moist in here as well.
All morning there have been firetrucks zooming around? What's going on.

Completely unrelated...



Lunchtime!
I was really hungry.
My brother had just called me. He's in Boston and taking the Chinatown bus down to NYC to spend the weekend with us. He was able to get on an earlier bus so my schedule had just become a bit tighter.

I was really hungry. So, I was going out for lunch and was locking my door when I hear noises coming from downstairs that are not abnormally loud for our normally yelly building, but noises with a bit of urgency. And slamming.
Oh my. I totally get ready for something out of the ordinary.

First, I expect that our Yemeni neighbors are up to something fun. Not to disparage the fine country of Yemen, but they seem to just like to fight and yell 24-7. Yet, oddly on their floor it's quiet.


Ah, first floor. It must be you.
I come down the stairs and find a dozen or so of NYC's finest in bullet-proof vests coming out of an apartment. There is female screaming (the mom and one of the girlfriends).
There is slamming and banging.
Oh yes, and yelling.

They pull the nice guy out of the apartment. He's really nice. Walks his kid to school every morning and is very kind and patient with her.
He is nice to us. Very polite.
Then again, I don't ever see him working.


They make him kneel against the front door in our building's breezeway. The whole hallway is now full of cops.
One of them looks at me and says, "Oh, do you need to get through?" and I reply that no I can wait.
I watch them for a good three or four minutes. I think maybe I should mention the guy upstairs that actually sells stuff out on the street. The guy that you can just watch trading little things with cracked out people.
He's kind of weird. And he's always smoking in the hallways.
Bust that guy.


One of the cops realizes that they aren't going anywhere soon and motions me over and they all make room for me to pass. It's one big blue mass of body heat.
Our neighbor is kneeling with his face against the door and his eyes are closed. When they talk to him, he is very polite.






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›post #579
›bio: rich
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›9/15/2006
›13:50

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