Well that’s the story of where I live. Somehow I became ‘white girl, white girl.” I heard their plans outside my window. The landlord knows the windows were put in wrong, they don’t lock, one is warped open. I freeze during winter, 50 degrees in my room. I heard their plan to teach the white girl a lesson. That’s why I took that stupid British outsourcing job, that’s how I got pneumonia. I didn’t go to the hospital. I just remembered how I am going to have to sue the ass off of two hospitals that have seriously overcharged me. Gosh I have a long list of people to sue, I’m not really up for it. And then when I got better, things had quieted down, I really thought they had forgot. Right outside my window tonight about the white girl again. The landlord kicked some of the teenage boys out. They lived on the fifth floor.
It was horrible for my two roommates and I. Weeks of them throwing their furniture down the stairs. Of our door knob being screwed off. Of the lock being clicked back and forth with a screwdriver. Or was it as the landlord’s nephew said, “here’s the key, she has a cellphone.”
Before I left for San Francisco I phoned the landlord in the shared airport van. The doorknob came off in my hand and rolled down the hallway. I didn’t have time to deal with it. I want that lock replaced. Someone has a key to it. They are trying to get in everynight and I can’t get to sleep. The gate and two entry doors are all left unlocked. I am afraid to come home at night. Someone is waiting on the stairway and rushes down as I just let myself into the door. 30 minutes later they are trying to get in.
When I arrive in my Hotel Nikko room I see a message has been left on my cellphone. I am going to replace the lock but you are never to speak of it to me again. I am not going to be harassed by you. I’ve kicked them all out. (I had never spoken to her about them, what did she know?) There is nobody trying to get in and y’all better stop calling the police. Intruders rarely come through the door. slam
What she didn’t know is so far these people have already entered this apartment. I found the fire escape window open with body prints and red on the wall. I said I was calling the police but this visiting mother said don’t. What did she know. She told me before, is your boyfriend black? If he’s white you better not bring him here, they’ll get them.
So I wiped down the fire escape and locked it. I bought curtains and put them up on the windows and the empty space that was the door. For I had noticed that one of the teens that hangs out in the gatewell was across the way looking into the window. That’s how they knew where my room was and whatever else they knew.
The scariest parts remain silent. There is too much to tell. Geekboy says I have to stay here until I find another place first. My sister and brother said just move back to Houston, its way too dangerous there. My niece also agreed.
I wonder when this nightmare called living in New York City will end. I am pretty sure it started the moment I stepped off the plane in 1972 and it really has not become better. Oh I’ve more than made the grade, worked the highest high, made the most money ever, lost money in all the stock scams, lost jobs, lost apartments, lost loves. So Sorry, the Baby does not sleep tonight.