Welcome to My Neighborhood

I live in a not so nice neighborhood on Chicago's north side. This fact of my life has allowed me to observe a very curious group of people. Sometimes I imagine that I am a scientist, objectively surveying the natives from behind my little duck blind, or window if you will. Of course this is not true because when the natives get restless in the middle of the fucking night when I am trying to sleep, I can no longer remain an objective witness. I then become quite subjective to the point of banging on my wall and yelling "shut the fuck up!" or sometimes I call the police. Let's take a look at a few of the more interesting characters in my little menagerie.

Bicycle Horn Guy
I have never actually seen bicycle horn guy. But I can hear him when he is still a block away so I know that he must exist. Often he plays a little tune. Sometimes his horn is just a few polite honks. Sometimes they are not so few and definitely not polite. These are the times that I try to stick my head out of the window so that I can give Bicycle Horn Guy a dirty look. Or perhaps throw something at him. But alas he has proven to be quite elusive.

Pimps and Hoes
I share a wall with a person whom I think maybe might possibly be a pimp. Either that or he orders up a disturbing amount of prostitutes. Often when I am leaving home or coming home I see a few scantily clad young women walking into the building next to mine. Sometimes they are alone, sometimes they are in a group. But they always look fabulous in their pound of makeup, stilettos, miniskirts and fishnets and are quite friendly. Recently upon leaving my apartment and walking to the corner to where my ride was waiting I crossed paths with one of these ladies of the night. As I passed her she pronounced "I gots to get me a real jacket." I couldn't tell if she was talking to me or the man walking five feet behind her so I didn't say anything back. She was wearing a jacket though so I'm still a little unclear as to what made the one she was wearing not real. Was it not feathery enough?

Emphysema Man
An old man lives in the apartment across the street from my place. He stands outside at all hours of the day and night. I do not know what exactly he is doing outside. Mostly it looks like he is simply standing there. And coughing. Loudly. And Often. When I come home from work at 6:00pm he is there. When I am falling asleep at 2:00am he is there. When I am going to work at 8:30am he is there. It is nice to have this consistency in life. It is not so nice when this consistency is hacking up a lung and looking like it just crawled out of the gutter. In any case I always wave to emphysema man. I do this because he sounds like he may drop dead at any moment and how cool would it be if the last thing that happens to him in this life is to get a wave and a smile from yours truly? What can I say? I'm a giver.

Screamy Serbians
Across the hall from me (and the people below them, and the people below them as well) are a few families of Serbian immigrants. Actually they are probably just one extended family given that they are constantly in the hallways and in and out of each others doors. Also they seem to have a phobia about having shoes inside their apartments as there is a constant shoe party going on in the hallways. By shoe party I mean that there is at any given time at least seven pairs of shoes outside each door. Some of these shoes are quite nice and I have entertained the thought of stealing them but unfortunately they are not my size. I did not know that these people were Serbian until I had a Serbian friend over one night who heard the screaming and said "Oh you have Serbian neighbors." Before this I had imagined that they were aliens from some planet out of our solar system that spoke in extremely loud gibberish. If you have never encountered Serbian people then you may not know this, but they yell. A lot. It's not necessarily that they're mad at one another, it's just the way that they talk. I believe that one screaming match that I overheard was interpreted as "Don't forget the milk."

Singin in the Shower/ R Kelly at 2:00am Guy
I really like Singin in the Shower Guy when I am leaving for work and he is singing in the shower loud enough for me to hear it as I pass by his door. It brings a smile to my face. He likes Motown and so do I. I do not like Singin in the Shower Guy when he turns into R Kelly at 2:00am Guy. I am a fairly tolerant person and have had my share of late night parties. However. This music goes beyond bad. It's really not even R Kelly. It's R. Kellyish. No wait. I'm sorry, this is insulting to R. Kelly. The music this guy is playing is like having the tips of your fingernails cut open with razor blades, dipped in lemon juice and dragged across a chalkboard. And amplified enough to shake your bed. The police and I have developed a nice relationship over our mutual dislike of R Kelly at 2:00am Guy.

Come back for a second installment of "Welcome to my Neighborhood" when we will visit such fascinating characters as "Time for bed Damien (at 1:00am) Lady" and "Bitch Don't You Play Me Like That Guy"