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May 03, 2004

Pricks

When I walked up to the front door of my apartment, balancing three bags in each hand, fumbling for my keys, I didn't expect for the guy picking up his mail just two feet inside the door to open the door for me. He didn't even bother to look up at me until I was actually inside. That's what my neighbors are like here. I live in a building of transients in DC, not an uncommon situation to find oneself in, given that I don't know a single person who was born and raised in the District. But the guys here are particularly annoying. These pricks have a quality about them that I can't quite put my finger on. A couple are very slick looking and most are quite unfriendly and self-absorbed. These are the men I try not to cross paths with, for they are the ones I loathe. They move here with the attitude that they are better than everyone else. For a while they even had their own club, although the name now escapes me. Something for young urban professionals - whatever. Been there done that, not impressed. This crossing of paths would not have been so irritating, had I not just come from visiting Kevin's friend and his family. The house was warm and serene, with just the sounds of the birds outside, an occasional purr of the cat and frequent laughter from all of us. No worries, no picket fences in the near future.

Posted by kafi at 10:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack