Mrs. Noisewater and I are going to miss some things about this apartment. Hearing the drunks congregating in our alley having loud conversations filled with "WOOS!" is not one of them. This often wakes us up out of a dead sleep, and then they hang out by the dumpsters and we can make out every single word they say. I never could figure out why they would want to smell garbage while they converse, but then the other night we could gather from their conversation that they were doing cocaine. Lovely! As I have said in previous posts, rather than telling them to shut the heck up, like some of my neighbors have done, I prefer to just interject, chiming into the middle of their conversation. They suddenly hear from above, "Is that pretty good coke?" The problem is that they would probably want to talk about that all night with me, so I would have to add something creepy like "Can I come down there in my pajamas and do a bump? And then maybe you guys can come upstairs with me and cuddle?"
Anyway, one thing I am going to miss in this hood is the middle aged Black man on the block who takes excessively meticulous care of his sky blue circa 1991 BMW. The thing is dented all over the closer you look at it, which is no surprise because he parks it on the street in a busy section of Chicago - a great way to get dinged. He is down there when it's cold out warming up the engine while he fusses over cleaning the interior or checking the oil, but I have never seen him actually go anywhere. Sometimes I will see it parked in a slightly different spot, suggesting that he has taken it for a spin, but it's always returned to the same side of the street. It's not so much that I'll miss him, it's that I'll never figure out his story/solve this mystery.
In case I don't get a chance to talk to my favorite OCD neighbor to get an explanation, something I will be doing if I see him again before I go, would any of you like to wager a guess at why he behaves this way with his "beemer?"