I can't believe it's not a democracy!

I'm home, wasting time,

being late for work. Truth is, I might not get to work today. Why? No fucking water. None. Not a goddamned drop. Seems that there was a flooding issue in the basement apartment and my super (a nice kid, but a kid) decided at 2:00 a.m. to shut the water to the whole fucking building. Roto-Rooter (or however they spell it) just got here. Why not early this morning? My guess is that my super knew that my bastard landlord wouldn't authorize an early morning visit because it costs more. I know this for a fact, because one of the many managing agents who quit/were fired told me that they were not allowed to call for emergencies after 6 or 7 p.m., to save money for my bastard drug-addicted landlord (hey, cocaine doesn't grow on trees...oh, wait a second).

Anyhow, this is the second time in about two years that the water was turned off. First time happened around 7 p.m. on a very hot August night. You know, one of those hot sticky nights where the only thing you want to do when you get home is to peel off your wet clothing and stand under a steady stream of cool water until you feel human again? Well, no one was called until the a.m. (money, money, money), so we had no water for about 19 hours. Let me tell you, I've gone without heat for days and hate it, but nothing beats the pain of not having water. Think about it. Can't brush your teeth (although I do have emergency water in the fridge for that), can't shower (bottled water is no help), can't flush a toilet (not fun). Nothing. So, even though I took tomorrow off for a long weekend, I may have to take my last paid day off today instead, sitting in my pajamas, without water, because I will not go to the office without a shower. I'm stubborn that way. Please Mr. Housing Bubble, pop soon so that I can buy an overpriced studio with running water. Amen.

Large closet space a New York City

status symbol. Even though I live in a small village "one bedroom" apartment, I have pretty good closet space. But I'd gladly give up one of my closets for 50 more square feet of living space.

I love my neighborhood

I still hate my bastard landlord, but I live in a fabulous neighborhood....the west village...an oasis in the big city. The nieghborhood is so pretty that many film crews come here for television and movie shoots. So when I was walking home from lunch a few minutes ago and saw flashing lights at the end of my block, I walked to the end to see if it was a street festival or a movie shoot. Well, the block was lined with carnival games and food booths and the tell tale signs of a film crew. And no cost was spared, as there was tons of equipment and cables everywhere. So, was it a Hollywood film? An HBO show? No. I asked a production worker what the name of the movie was. He sort of smiled and looked a little embarassed and said, "um, actually, it's a TUMS commercial."

Hate his guts

I could start from the beginning, but I would need hours, if not days, to list his trangressions. In short, he is a complete bastard who should not own buildings in which people live. He has physically threatened tenants and his agents, refuses to keep the building clean, hires undocumented and unskilled help, etc. We do not have heat despite the fact that heating season started October 1. There is a mountain of trash in the basement. The building is filthy and the roof....well, it's still there. Perhaps I should start a poll as to when part or all of it caves in. I'm thinking right after the next heavy snowstorm.
So, my neighbors/friends in the apartment next to mine and I are keeping the pressure on. Sure we are settling our claims in return for giving him our withheld rent (minus a very very small amount for our troubles) and he will give us promises in return. Promises that I am certain he will not keep.
So expect to hear more in the future.
As to why I remain here? I love my neighborhood. I have fantabulous neighbors. I walk to work. I live in one of the best places in the world. I just hate my bastard landlord.