scar(r)ed from the stoop
If some of you have been wondering why there hasn't been much stoop action lately, its not just the rain. Let me share a little something...
This guy, Mark, has been hanging out downstairs on the stoop.
And I got a little talking to from the landlord who lives downstairs about how I am so "slovenly" for leaving a cigarette butt on the stoop.
On Saturday, as I am leaving to go camping with Colleen, I discovered my landlord and Mark are painting the stoop without warning so I had to jump over a couple of steps carrying all my stuff. Instead of helping me, Mark commented that I could hop on his back, (the hairy sweaty back oozing out from that same green tank top) unless I was too worried about what people think. I quickly told him the best help he could be was to shut the door behind me, hopped into the camper and saved my puking till I was around the block.
This guy, Mark, has been hanging out downstairs on the stoop.
And I got a little talking to from the landlord who lives downstairs about how I am so "slovenly" for leaving a cigarette butt on the stoop.
On Saturday, as I am leaving to go camping with Colleen, I discovered my landlord and Mark are painting the stoop without warning so I had to jump over a couple of steps carrying all my stuff. Instead of helping me, Mark commented that I could hop on his back, (the hairy sweaty back oozing out from that same green tank top) unless I was too worried about what people think. I quickly told him the best help he could be was to shut the door behind me, hopped into the camper and saved my puking till I was around the block.
posted by reilly at 10:44 PM
2 Comments:
That sucks :( Although you can get real "old school" and put on an old housecoat (preferably the ones that snap down the middle), get your lawnchair out and plop down right on the sidewalk. Oh yeah - curlers are optional ;)
Hope to see ya stooping soon.
Stacey
Apropos to what fellow commentor Stacy points out, if stooping is a lost art, the tradition of old people sitting in front of apartment buildings is something that's really dying. Probably more to do with the elderly being priced out of the buildings they lived in, but even when I was back in my old childhood neighborhood of Brighton Beach--the unofficial capital of that happening as documented in Requiem for a Dream--the fronts of buildings were disturbingly bereft of them.
But considering how hipsters have taken to knitting and pushing old lady shopping carts, there might be hope for a folding chair revival.
How does hook into the guy hanging out downstairs? It seems while other NYC "outside of building" social activities have been on the decline, odd guys who are shirtless or donning wife-beaters is on a disturbing upswing.
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