Friday, April 06, 2007

One Of The Reasons I'm Getting Out Of Here

The lease at this apartment complex is up at the end of this month, and I'm heading out for greener pastures. Several reasons. One is that the place is too small (even though Katy just moved out last month... so if it's too small for one person, you can only imagine the squalor the both of us were living in). Another is that there is approximately seven minutes of hot water for a shower (leaving me to howl in fury at the showerhead for the last two minutes). Yet another is that the walls are thick enough to keep out the treble frequencies of the crappy Tejano music all the neighbors play, but not the bass, and so there are hours-long barrages of this circus-like BOMP bomp BOMP bomp BOMP bomp BOMP bomp. Yet another of these reasons is that apparently lots of guys carpool to work from here, and the morons who drive can't seem to get out and knock to get the riders awake, so they just lean on the horn at four AM till the sleeping princes arise (there's a different version of this game they all play in the evenings where they honk at each other from different sides of the complex... a little like a gangland shootout for people what can't afford stolen guns). And yet another is that there are no washer/dryer hookups here, forcing me to use the on-premises laundromat, and though that is pain enough, it leads me to the titular reason... the guy I met down there today.
I go in to check on my laundry, which was half dry. This rotund fellow with squinty eyes is sitting on the bench next to the snack machine (which has bars on it, which should tell you everything you may not have inferred about this complex already). When he sees me rearranging my clothes in different dryers (some of them work, sometimes), he points at me and says something. His inflection suggested that he meant something like, 'Hey, you know if you use that dryer, it'll work better.' But what he actually said was, "A boi boi a ha munna munna borgyl voopy ah ha ha ha."
Stunned, I say, "What?"
Vehemently, he repeats himself. "A boi boi a ha munna munna borgyl voopy ah ha ha ha!" And then he points again.
At this juncture, I realize no sense will pass between us, and I hurry up and finish the dryer game. On the way out, he waves and says, "A gor boi boi!"
I have got to get out of here.

2 Comments:

Blogger Indigeaux said...

The Swedish Chef lives in your complex??? Awesome! Bork, bork, bork.

10:05 PM  
Blogger Clarence said...

I was thinking it was that alien in the marketplace in The Phantom Menace from whom Jar Jar snatches that lizardy thing to eat.

9:25 AM  

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