2003-08-21 - 10:56 p.m.

So I get in the elevator to go up, and I say to the elevator man, " Do you know that door is open?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, " he says, "No worry, nobody get in" I said, "not PEOPLE. Roaches...and RATS." He then suggested that I leave my laundry for his wife, my cleaning person, to do. "No problem, just leave the bag and the quarters and she do it" And I said, "No! I don't want HER to have to go down there either!" And he said, and this is the disturbing part, "No, no, people like us, we don't mind rats."

People like us don't mind rats? What does this mean? His native country is tropical, and islanders are comfortable with wildlife generally. Is it that? Or is he saying poor people like us, who live in the projects? Who live with rats? Either way, the distinction he made unsettled me deeply. Partly because I'm now thinking about the possibility of his lfe being the latter, and partly because I'm disturbed by who that makes me.

Whew, that's a lot of caps, up there. I want you to read it like I SAY it, you know?

I went out to run errands tonight for my trip on Saturday toogoddamnearly, and as always before I go away and leave the city, I wandered around all evening. I know you're probably sick of hearing about it, but damn, I love this neighborhood. I love the dirty streets and the flower gardens, the metal gates that shutter the stores at night, D0m@ for coffee-to-go, the dark cobblestone streets and the pink streetlamps. After growing up in the suburbs of it, and well into my second life here, I still thrill at my neighborhood. That I am living exactly where I have always wanted to live. Sadly, I can't say that about many things in my life. On the flip side, I still enjoy the hell out of it every single day. I love the community, too. Although last night, in an attempt to have dinner on the corner, we were outside talking to the chef, who was complaining that the city had closed his restaurant, were closing all the restaurants, on a staggered schedule, to make sure they didn't have anything tainted by the power outage. Stomach complaints are on the rise, of course, and so they're spot checking. He was frustrated, saying he'd lost so many days already, and just past his wildly gesticulating hands I saw my old hairdresser approaching. Remember her, the one who took out her day on my head? I did finally have to leave her, it was too hard to get an appointment and I am very impatient, and I immediately felt guilty and ashamed. Like I had been caught CHEATING. Which I had, in a sense. She hugged me hello, said, "You look wonderful!" I responded,"You too, it's so good to see you..." and that was it. I've never had a run-in with someone I've jilted before.

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