Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Pick Of The Crop
There is an apartment building behind my house that accommodates a few weird tenants. Over the years the vast majority of the really annoying ones have moved out. Like the professional photographer who was partial to late night shoots. It was not uncommon to be woken by his persistent strobe. Fucker. Then there were the Middle Eastern guys who would gather for late night Persian music festivals. Fuckers. But one weirdo remains. The Face Picker. I have a very unfortunate view of this lady from my kitchen. Every week or so she sets up a mirror on her window sill and scrapes her bangs off her face with hair clips for a 'Picking of Face' session lasting several gruesome hours. She picks and plucks and squeezes and pops. Seriously gross.
The first year of my tenancy there was a horrible incident in the house. The brother of the upstairs neighbour, who used to walk around with his cute shirtless self but that is another story, had a wild party. I remember it well as early in the morning I came upon a passed out dude lying in a pool of his own vomit right in front of my door. In any case that too is another story. I'll get back to the original tale. The party guests spent most of the evening on the fire escape, which faces this lovely lady's apartment. I guess she was quite taken with these cute young boys and started flirting from her window. I guess the guys were toasting her with their beer bottles. I guess she got her own bottle of beer and started toasting the guys back. I guess they made kissy faces and grabbed their crotches. I guess she hiked up her skirt a little. I guess they guys cheered her on a little more. I guess she liked that too. What happened next is something I really don't want to think about very much but the story in the house was that this fine upstanding lady, well into her 40's...um... inserted that beer bottle where the sun don't shine right in front of this group of young impressionable boys. I do remember hearing a chorus of disgusted noises and embarrassed laughter that night but didn't know what it all meant at the time. It because obvious later once I was privy to the story. She cleared that fire escape faster than actual flames would.
Whenever I see her picking at her face in the window (AKA: The Scene Of The Crime) I can only think about this incident. And then I throw up in my mouth a little.
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