Sunday, March 2, 2014

The State in Which I Live


You may remember that I have taken up residence in a small home in the town of Teaneck. It is next to a middle school and a turtle conservatory of which I have grown overly found. The town is peaceful and the nights are quiet. This subdued atmosphere however does not carry into the home in which I am resident.
I now like with three other people. Without exception they are all mad. Let us begin with the most humorous of the trio.

“They call me ‘The Rat’” were his first words to me. The fat, heavily bearded, sharp toothed, Saudi Arabian man that was sitting in my living room thought not to give me his name or extend his hand in greeting; rather he offered a decidedly unflattering nickname and an unbalanced smile while he continued to scratch his balls. This could have been our only interaction I would have known enough about the man. My expression of surprise must not have been well hid for he went on to explain the origin of this title. “You see, in college, in the dorm, I would become very hungry, and at night I would awaken and scrounge about for food, collecting in my bed and eating for sometime before falling back asleep…like a rat!” The Rat looked at me expectantly, perhaps waiting for a laugh, I let my cocked eyebrows relax and said “So it is, it’s nice to meet The Rat” and turned upstairs to lock up all my food.

The first few nights living with the rat were unremarkable but then the nightly grumblings began. I would just finishing my reading and having had a long day of work and class was half between dreams and wakefulness when I would hear a long sigh erupt from The Rat’s room, or hole as he might have called it. There would follow a period of between 40 and 50 minutes of his stomping around, moving boxes and furniture, with a desperation that was reminiscent of a beast in its final moments. The door you fling open and The Rat would go vaulting down the steps, the sighing becoming more of moan. The lights crept in under my door and the shadows of his movements danced on my walls. I heard the refrigerator door thrown open and its contents assaulted. This would go one for a period of minutes and then quietly all the passion gone The Rat would stumble back up the stair and into his room. When the dawn came the only evidence of the raid that had occurred were a misplaced bag of cheetos forgotten on the stairs.

The resident in absencia is apparently named Brian. Although only having meet him twice in the 6 months we have both been living there I really have no proof of that. Brian lives in the basement and apparently designs suitcases. One might consider Brian to be in these matters a relatively normal renter; however, Brian is also subject to some rather strange circumstance. To start, Brian is married. He has a wife and she lives just down the street. She lives alone in a big house. Why does Brian not live with his wife? No one knows. Brian also takes phone calls in the middle of the night beneath my window in which he discusses rather interesting things; the “moving” of things, the “purity”, and the “price” of these things without ever naming the things. Brian also never comes upstairs or is in the kitchen despite not having any access to a fridge or a stove in his basement. In fact Brian is never anywhere but under my window smoking a “cigarette” or in the basement. In fact The Rat has never even seen Brian. It is very possible Brian may not even be real.

Finally we arrive at the master of this house, Olga. One day upon returning home from week I realized that my room was absolutely frigid. I saw that the heat was turned off. I assumed I must have mistakenly left it off and fixed it and went on with my day. This would have been unremarkable except this happened everyday for the next week. Now, some nights I come home pretty late because of my class schedule and it is difficult to sleep in a glorified ice box so I thought I must get to the bottom of this. The next day that I left I placed a small rubber ball just behind my closed door so that if it were to be opened it would be struck and sent to the other side of the room. Sure enough upon returning home I saw the ball underneath my desk nowhere near where I had left it and the heat turned all the way off. It was clear from this that Olga (The Rat had not moved in yet and Brian leaves and arrives earlier and later than I do) was sneaking into my room every day after I had left and was turning off my heat. This is in and of itself is not a terrible thing. It is an invasion of my privacy and it is rather annoying but Olga was also charging me $50 extra dollars for heat during the winter. Heat that I was never getting to enjoy! What a scam she was running! Ah but I out smarted her. For the Rat’s room was still vacant. So every day before I left I would go across the hall and turn the heat all the way up and leave both doors wide open. Thereby I would suck all the out of the Rat’s future room and find myself nice a cozy despite the treachery of Olga. 

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