Every night at about 10:00pm I return to the house where I am living over the summer. It is a colonial style house built here by a political big-whig who had too much time on his hands.
There always seems to be too many ppl in the house but somehow everyone fits. Here lives a priest, a bearded lady retired from the circus, a door to door salesman, a single mother who somehow is also able to be a stay at home mother, a janitor at a large corporate office, a Baptist preacher, a drug dealer- turned lawyer who has recently gone back to drug dealing, a woman specializing in breeding two-legged dogs, all of her two legged dogs, a spy, a sailor who plays the trumpet in a local band, a firewoman, and of course, myself. These of course are all the people that I know of that live in the house, the exact number of occupants seems to change quite often.
When I first moved into the house I had a choice between two rooms. I was told by someone, their name escapes me now that each rooms had its share of pro’s and con’s. The room upstairs is located adjacent to a bathroom and in between the sailor and the stay at home single mother. I was told that the room had a great view of the empty asphalt lot just outside and sometimes when it rained the smell of the damp asphalt was sweet enough to lull anyone to sleep. The latter part was particularly pleasing to me because I knew I would only be at the house at night anyway. The cons that came along with this room was that the sailor practiced during the day for his gigs at some local club that he now always pressures me into going to and the stay- at- home mother’s children, who seem mild-mannered but often ran, jumped, and played in their apartment creating a sandwich of laugh, screams, B-flats, staccatos ,c-majors, bumps, but and scrapes for me to deal with. This might have been a problem for most ppl but like I said I was always out and about during the day and only entered my room at 10:00 pm at night
The other room was smaller but had its own bathroom and was very old, at least that’s the conclusion I came to considering the peeling floral wallpaper and the undeniable smell of old people that filled every space of the room. It also fit perfectly with the story I’ve heard from the other ppl who live hear about the house so it didn’t surprise me much. It had that “lived-in” look that I hear many people hunt for when searching for a home but I didn’t want or need a home, I all I wanted was a single room. This room was the last room in the hallway but was across from the lawyer/drug dealer and next to the Baptist preacher…….to be continued.
