Tuesday, March 18, 2008

...on asking

...and receiving

sometimes, the bastard stays at his ladyfriend's place.

it's a short hop from the office.

and i actually get sleep.

anyway, she only has one vent on her floor and when everyone on the floor cooks in their apartment, the most curious smell is borne in the hall.

so one of her neighbors put out an air freshener.

next day it was gone, thinking that the neighbor who put it out brought it back in. inspired, my ladyfriend bought her own to do away with the smell which some days is a mixture of cooking and mothballs and 3 day old cabbage being set on fire.

so upon waking up the next morning, the hallway smelled of airwick sugar water and baby bottoms, which mind you is better than the mothball smell. look for it in your grocery store.

when she got home it was gone. what to do?

upon discussion with the maintenance guy, she asks me to write a note to the air freshener thief. and not the kind of note with vitriol and and cursewords. begrudginly, i agree and write a nice note.


next morning, lo and behold, there it was, right where my ladyfriend left it on sunday night. it was like the air freshener fairy returns air fresheners in return for notes from tenants. it was magical. so, she did what any smart new yorker would do. unplugged it and put in in the apartment. air fresheners are expensive you know? you can't trust anyone these days. but, you can leave a note about it.

—the bastard

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