Wednesday, January 7, 2009

The List - New York City

I Hate:

Being harassed in my own city.
In my own neighborhood
On my own block.
People who think that just because I'm a little white girl, that they may speak to me however they wish. 

When people in my building don't hold the door for me when I always hold the door for them.
How my superintendent lives next door to us.
My superintendents' wife
The whore upstairs who thinks that it's appropriate to stomp around at all hours of the day. Including 4:00 am. I knew when I was five that if you're living above someone, to be a considerate walker. 
When the whore upstairs wanted us to turn our music down, so she told on us to the superintendent, and not to us first. 
When I stand on the counter in the kitchen with the swiffer mop and bang on the ceiling to let the whore upstairs know she's being too loud, and she stomps back at me. 

2nd Avenue
All the kids on St. Marks that think they're skinheads, punks, and homeless crust kids just because they have a shaved head, a studded belt, and haven't washed one pair of pants in a whole year. 
How none of these kids have ever had the shit kicked out of them, their parents abandon them, or how the hardest drug they've ever done was weed. 


How the post office doesn't sell envelopes. And that one time they decided to give me 50 one cent stamps.
The asian that works at the post office,and always tells me that my paper work is wrong when in reality it's all correct, and she's just a moron.

Euros
Euros in SoHo
SoHo
Asians that walk around New York staring at the sky.
Mostly, asians. 

Puddles at the end of sidewalks. 
When delivery boys zoom through the puddles splashing water all over me.

People who go to NYU
Midwestern transplants who call themselves 'New Yorkers' after living here for two months.  You will forever be from somewhere else. Get over it. 
Kids who act tough because they now live in New York. You're still a suburban soul. Cut it out please. 

Tourists.
Tourists who come to New York and only eat at McDonalds, Subway, and Olive Garden.

Middle aged baby boomers who think that they can talk down to me because I didn't come from money, or have no interest in living on the upper west side. 
People who put other people down.

That time I found a woman's credit card in the west village Washington Mutual and tried to return it by calling the card company, and found her on the internet; all to return something important she had lost. 
That time I lost a $1,000 check, and no one even tried to return it to me. And I know they found it. 

How my laundry always costs $17
How the guys who run the laundry-mat look at me. 

Hipsters 
American Apparel 
Urban Outfitters trash
People who live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, because its "cool". Brooklyn sucks, and I remember being a kid and hearing about people getting killed there. Take your fedora and suede headband and move to Fulton st. and we'll see how long you last.

How our apartment smells, and we can never figure out what it smells like or why it smells the way it does. 
How our apartment is always messy no matter how many times we clean it

But mostly, I hate how I am such a good person to everyone I meet, and get nothing but shit in return. 
This city takes and takes until it has all of you; and I'm starting to think that I should do the same. 

Karma Shmarma. 
Im a good person because I know that it's the right thing to do. 
I'll be a selfish person because it's the better thing to do. 
Im not giving up, just giving in. 


Prisoner of apartment 1D

Rent's past due.
The fat ignorant hog upstairs is still selfish enough to assume that she is the only resident of this building, and continues to stomp around as loud as she wants as a result of these narrow thoughts. 
There's an essential emergency every 30 minutes between the hours of 12:00 am and 9:00 am that the fire department next door seemingly just has to attend to.
This place always smells like some weird cooked food I can never put my finger on.

I'd say that I'm all alone in this just to sound more pathetic, but that isn't true at all. I just get the bigger headache from it all.

Today I thought I'd do something simple like get lunch. 
Boy was I wrong.  

Question:
What about ' Hey pretty lady' or 'Sup beautiful?' in your disturbing broken ebonics makes you think that just because you've said these oh so romantic phrases to me would make me want to skip happily home with you? 

Before hopping on the 6 train downtown, I stop at the deli to check how much money is dwindling in the balances of my checking account. Of course, some cro-magnon cretin in his bleach stained hoodie and plaster covered jeans shadows me inside; and proceeds to ask if I like "rock music".

Did I somehow trip into a wormhole and travel back to 1963? I hope not. Elvis sucked then.

Tired of being harassed in my own neighborhood, I bitterly tell him to mind his own, and fuck off.  Irritatedly I slide my credit card down the telling machine, and await my negative balance.

Like a crow pursuing a bit of silver, this moron neither ceases nor desists. 

Pushing whichever buttons the machine wants to work on this wretched thing, " Im sorry miss, I- Im a record producer a-and I was just seeing --" My mind stops. My ears stop. My logic, ceases to work. 

Did you ever have to do that experiment in high-school chemistry class, where you drop a mentos into a bottle of diet coke-a-cola? Well if you haven't, the soda will explode all over you in a fizzy mess. That's exactly what happened to my brain at that moment in time. 

Only my time had stopped. I could see myself screaming at this poor fool, but my voice was not my own. my sight was not my own. Essentially I was not my own. I had somehow transported into a fishbowl of a world where I was watching myself like on a television. 

Im so sick of it. 
Im so sick of all of it. 
Im so sick of all of you