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| YOU GET TO A POINT IN
LIFE where you’re just pretty certain that you will never again
find yourself half crazy on really cheap whiskey mixed with Mr &
Mrs T’s Sour Mix in a double studio apartment with a couple of
pullman beds and two full walk-in closets besides, which apartment
isn’t costing you shit because 1) you’re not the guy who’s
paying for it and 2) the rent’s cheap anyhow no matter who’s
paying for it; this latter point being true because 1) there is absolutely
nothing going on either in or anywhere near this neighborhood and
2) the landlords are thieves and they don’t much care what the
rent is since they are planning to come between you and your money
in more novel manners like stealing your checkbook and paying themselves
for imaginary repairs on your apartment. |
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