The "sexy" thing about a town like New York is that you can cross paths with rarely seen friends, neighbors and other folks on the sidewalk -- just like in the movies. One unsexy thing about such spontaneous moments is when it happens outside the window of your apartment as you're drifting to sleep. Such social outreach can be trying enough; but let's not even work in the concept of everyone's favorite pooch, otherwise known as the block's mysterious doodie dropper. An obedient dog who keeps his "whoofs" to a minimum is always a cool thing. However, a slightly drunken owner and an excitable pup are grounds to raise the blinds -- especially if the conversation exceeds 15 minutes.
Raising one set of blinds, I offered a hairy eyeball to one of the three socializers. The discussion would come to an end or travel elsewhere, I thought. Nope, the dog sees another encroaching upon his spot of sidewalk. "Whoof-whoof!" Do I really need to open the other blind? More drunken pitching came forth.
Such action merited an unabashed eyeball after raising the other set of blinds. Silly bastards! Whatever happened to inviting company over for a nice cocktail: a high-ball, martini, gin & tonic, rum & coke, hot toddy? No more. Gone are the days when the ways of dressing formally simply to appear respectable. Terms such as "sir" and "ma'am" are considered punchlines. Dinner parties: huh, not on these salaries/wages/earnings/pickin's. Since so few on the block has their "own" place, it's not quite like the movies here.
