Odds and ends.....
I'm not sure yet how to self reference my own blog (yes I do) but if you go back to my "hilarious" bathroom story you will learn all you need to know about my relationship with the "Super". Well, he's gone back to Ireland. It's supposedly temporary. In his absence my next door neighbor has apparently been selected as the new super. (So that's what that white smoke coming out of the chimney meant.) What his qualifications are I don't know. Although he's Irish. As was the "Super" before the previous "Super". And he's willing to relocate to the basement. That's where they go. Which means new next door neighbors eventually. I'm hoping for a gay masseur. That would be convenient.
I don't believe I related the story of how I almost caused myself to be decapitated in the spring. The cause of which was a loose pane of glass that fell from my own bedroom window five stories down to the street below where I happened to be reading a newspaper. Fortunately I was only showered in shattered glass and not killed. The result of this was I had to cover the now open window with a sheet of plastic to keep the heat, bugs and rain out and the cool, air conditioned air in. That was in March. Today, the plastic sheet remains. 5 months. I finally included a note with my habitually late rent check last week to the landlord basically saying...."um......what the...." He called today to explain the changing of the Irish Guard (see above) and that my window replacement got lost in the shuffle but it had indeed been down in the basement for the last month. He assured me I'm #1 on the repair list. This oughta be good.
I worked last Friday night on the late shift even though I was early. It was so Jabba The Drunk could get his drinking in and get to bed at a decent hour to start his vacation. I was happy to enable. I left my bike at home as they forecasted rain. Since I didn't need to navigate the mean streets beyond hailing a cab I decided to have a few cocktails at the end of the night myself. Now, ever since I reformed my wicked (drunken) ways it doesn't take much to get me totally buzzed. Three drinks will do it. Five and I'm usually drunk. This night I was particularly liteweight. Two drinks and I was totally gassed. I couldn't do the cash out or resolve a discrepancy in the paperwork. I finally decided to bag the whole thing till my next shift. Who's gonna yell at me, me? I set off for home and clambered into a taxi. As I did, I whacked my foot on something inside the car. It hurt but I thought little of it. As my ride progressed I noticed my foot felt kind of warm......and wet....sort of ...gushy. It wasn't till I got home and got up the stairs that I bothered to look at my foot. Fully 1/4 of the nail on my big toe had been torn off. That wet gushy feeling? Blood. Now you know how when you get hurt and you're drunk it doesn't hurt much? That was me. I'm all "look at that! A hunk of my toenail is missing! (everything is an exclamation when you're drunk) No wonder it hurt! I wonder if I can bandage it up!" sigh. I at least had the good sense to put a bandage on it so I didn't bleed all over my sheets. Now my big toe nail has this jagged drop on one end and I estimate it will take about six months of growth before it appears even again. Don't drink and wear sandals!
Speaking of akkahol. I met with the distributor of a new vodka that's been popping up around town lately. It's called Zyr. And aside from some very pretty packaging (gorgeous, sleek bottle) we chilled some up over ice cubes and hooo-ya! Let me tell ya babies that was some mighty fine tasting hootch! Smooth as a freshly shaved Puerto Rican ass and almost as refreshing. This is not a vodka you waste in a cosmo or some other nonsense. This is martini making vodka. Dry, dry and cold cold straight up. A ringing endorsement from me and bitch, *snap* she knows her vodkas.
