Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Cooper St., Round 2: The Sequel

January 11 2012, 1:38 PM

I woke up early this morning.  A terrible dream about my frigid ex-wife roused me from a fitful slumber.  She was cooing to me in the dream, and I was as confused as any person would be if they woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room, in an extremely familiar apartment.  As I shook off the cobwebs I realized that the cooing hadn't stopped. What is this woman trying to do to me?, I thought, just as it dawned on me.  It's a damn pigeon!

You see, my swanky digs for #AS2012 has provided me with a balcony, right next to the bed (that itself is difficult to notice under the Everest-sized mountain of pillows.  I myself am a pillow minimalist).  Great news for a nicotine addict like myself, but also great news for this aerodynamic egg-laying rat that likes to call this balcony home.  I prefer confrontation in my underwearlike any good latchso I jumped out of bed and gave it one helluva fist shake.

Is an apartment swap weird?  Possibly, but I prefer to think of it as a military exercise, a metaphorical 3 AM wake-up call accompanied with a 5 mile run.  It keeps you on your toes, it keeps you fresh. It's not the why that is important here, as a matter of fact we can't even remember why we're doing this.  Rather, it is the because, because we can damn it.  Need an iron every morning? I don't.  Like to unwind with a few hours in front of the flat screen?  Too bad.  Can't go without seeing your beloved grapefruit tree for a few days?  It's tough, but... she'll be there when I get back. 

So I sleep in contention with a battalion of pillows on an otherwise gigantic mattress.  I put my toothbrush in a different pint glass when I'm finished with it.  I use a hashtag instead of a front door fob.  I drink gin instead of scotch, and gentle cooing puts me to sleep instead of refrigerator gurgling.

And I'm a better latch because of it.

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