to the residents of apartment 59:

in the sordid world of apartment living, i attempt to go through my routine unnoticed and unnoticing. 

i not only ignore the fact that you decided against furnishing your apartment — prefering to sleep on a nest of blankets in the corner of your living room, spending your free time coiled up on folding metal chairs with your laptops — but also kindly look in the other direction when you decide to both of these things, as well as walk around in your stylish boxer-briefs, with your blinds wide open and your lamp on in a manner that backlights your sparse furnishings and bare bellies as if you are broadway dancers.

the delightful cooking smells partially compensate for your oddities.

but, residents of apartment 59, we have an issue.  you have had the same bag of garbage in front of your apartment for two weeks now.  and the leftovers of the perishables you used to produce those delightful cooking smells are slowly rotting next to your front door, making my walk downstairs to the courtyard decidedly unpleasant and even, on occasion, hazardous.  and always demoralizing.  there is currently a leakage from said garbage bag that is either gravy or some sort of acid, and it has attracted a species of fly that, while perhaps interesting to the biology grad students who live on the third floor, is just gross to the everyman.

apartment 59, i hesitate to call the leasing office, who if informed of your fly-infested waste will give you a stern talking-to, or a hostile phone call, or at least a note on your door to remind you that you do not live in a back alley in a third-world country.  but if the madness continues, you will leave me no choice.

apartment 71

p.s.  you must share your good-cooking-smells recipes.


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