THE CRACKWHORES NEXT DOOR
After the wedding Mrs. Yummy and i went back to the city and settled into our routine. She quit waitressing and scored a job as a photo editor at a new Hip Hop mag. called Vibe. I continued my carpentry gig and with our duel incomes we began to squirrel a little money away. On the weekends we drove upstate to hunt or hang at the lake. All my siblings had kids by now and i began to seriously consider taking the breeding plunge. But wait. I'm getting a little ahead of myself. First lets look at some real estate.
The apartment on 7&C was nice, big enough for two and still cheap, but the area was in the throes of growing pains. Gentrification had hit Aves. A and B pushing the dealers farther east. E7 between B&C was institutionalized heroin country with plenty of junkies and crack heads living in the squats that had yet to be swallowed up by real estate speculators. The little old lady that lived next door to us died and the place became infested with crackwhores on welfare. Landlords knew the city would pay top dollar to house them, so why bother finding good tenants? Then an enterprising bunch of young coke dealers took over the front of the building. In the morning I would put on my Carhart overalls and go off to work. The coke dealers were dressed exactly the same. They just didn't lift as much as me and stayed much cleaner.
The second time the CW neighbors set the place on fire Mrs. Y and I began discussing the possiblility of leaving town....actually buying a place. Never in all my years had i thought i would own property. I had no credit, and hardly any money, but it was becoming clear a move was in order. The first place we looked at was the old church i had stumbled across years before with Baby-Baby. I even talked to the owners. They said they would never sell, but took my number and we headed off to the Slab Farm in PA. There was a 50 acre piece across the road that was on the market. It was straight up with incredible views. I fell in love with the place. We made an offer and waited for a response. After 20 years of city living i was ready to go back to my roots. And, to my surprise, Mrs. Yummy was just as ready to come along. I prayed they would accept our offer.
The apartment on 7&C was nice, big enough for two and still cheap, but the area was in the throes of growing pains. Gentrification had hit Aves. A and B pushing the dealers farther east. E7 between B&C was institutionalized heroin country with plenty of junkies and crack heads living in the squats that had yet to be swallowed up by real estate speculators. The little old lady that lived next door to us died and the place became infested with crackwhores on welfare. Landlords knew the city would pay top dollar to house them, so why bother finding good tenants? Then an enterprising bunch of young coke dealers took over the front of the building. In the morning I would put on my Carhart overalls and go off to work. The coke dealers were dressed exactly the same. They just didn't lift as much as me and stayed much cleaner.
The second time the CW neighbors set the place on fire Mrs. Y and I began discussing the possiblility of leaving town....actually buying a place. Never in all my years had i thought i would own property. I had no credit, and hardly any money, but it was becoming clear a move was in order. The first place we looked at was the old church i had stumbled across years before with Baby-Baby. I even talked to the owners. They said they would never sell, but took my number and we headed off to the Slab Farm in PA. There was a 50 acre piece across the road that was on the market. It was straight up with incredible views. I fell in love with the place. We made an offer and waited for a response. After 20 years of city living i was ready to go back to my roots. And, to my surprise, Mrs. Yummy was just as ready to come along. I prayed they would accept our offer.
posted by mike osterhout at 11:41 AM
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