Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Freedom Now!

When you move out own your own for the first time, the newness of the experience ensures that you will never forget it. No more curfews! No more chores! No more babysitting! It's you against the world, baby, and are you ever ready! Bring it on! Of course, then reality sets in.

   Things like:

   Making rent.
   Trips to the laundromat.
   Police shoot-outs down the street.
   Digging through the sofa for enough loose change to be able to buy food.
   Pounding on the door by your girlfriend's ex-boyfriend, threatening bodily harm.
   Police coming to YOUR door (in a squad of SIX) looking for the previous tenants.
   Mice. Mice. And more Mice.

Still, it was all worth it. Crazy parties. Nights of passion. That sense of ‘This is MY place.’ And the feeling of regret when you finally move on. When I moved out of that first place, I had only moved next door but my friends moved in to my old place. On their very first night, a police chase ended with a car crashing into the house on the other side of them.

Never a dull moment when you are 21.

A North Fifth Street Story

By Professor Batty


Blogger Regular Cinderella said...

Hmmm...I wonder if we lived in the same building...across the street from a crack house? Mice as big as you are? Police on the stairs twice a week?
We could have been neighbors.

Blogger Professor Batty said...

It was across the street from the Mpls.. dog pound...and it was B.C. (before crack)...

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