This is a knarley one, ladies and gentlemen. I feel like this is one of those stories that, if I ever had grandkids, I'd be telling them and my granddaughter would run screaming from the room and my grandson would sit there with eyes wide and mouth agape....waiting to hear more.
To preface this I'll say that many of the tenants who lived at Shorehaven were older folks. Some living alone. A few who may have not had any family members to visit them to see how they were doing. Which means that if something happened to them in the apartment, the possibility of no one finding out about it for a while was highly likely. Here we go.
One working weekend I had just arrived to our locker room for the usual twelve o'clock lunch hour and my co-worker came in and told me that there was a dead body in the apartment of one of the buildings he was working in. As he walked into the said building he noticed an odd smell. He jumped into the elevator to head to the sixth floor to begin cleaning and he noticed the smell was stronger on the upper floors. I can imagine that, even if you've never smelled the rotting flesh of a human corpse, you would have the sense to realize that someone was dead. Long dead.
He asked me if I wanted to come to the building to check out the smell. My initial reaction was, "fuck no!" There are certain things in life that I never want to experience. One being the rancid odor of a person who had been dead for two weeks in the heat of summer.....locked in an aparment. I will never regret that I declined his offer. I have no doubts that the smell would never leave my consciousness. No, thank you.
Well, the fire department was called and since the apartment door was locked, they climbed up the fire escape to see if they could enter through a window. As they came upon the window that led the dead person's aparment they noticed that it was open with the screen down. They also noticed that the screen was completely covered with flies just itching to get in and start scarfing down the rotting corpse!
The lady died on her living room rug in the dead heat of summer. In New York City many of the apartments don't have central air conditioning as they do in the burbs. Let's just say that in my apartment during the summer I sit on the couch with two fans going and....just sweat. This lady was rotting away in this heat. When they removed her body part of her scalp had melted onto the living room rug. Don't believe me? Well, I was one of the lucky ones to have to rough clean her apartment. Rough cleaning is basically when no one comes to claim the items left by the deceased, so we empty the apartment and throw everything out. Paulie and I were the ones who got to roll up that living room rug. And yes, that dead lady's scalp was still stuck to it. I don't recall dry heaving or anything of that nature, but I guarantee that there will never come a time that I do that again. Ever. I hope you didn't read this before a nice meal.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Shorehaven 1.2 and thank you
For three years I had to work weekends at this job. It was brutal, at times. I usually had a Monday/Tuesday or Wednesday/Thursday off, but to wake up at 5:30am and make an hour commute (once I'd moved to Williamsburg, Brooklyn) to and from on Saturday and Sunday.....well, made me truly appreciate my days off. And I forgot what it was like to watch football and NBA triple-headers on Sunday.
That's the way it goes with these types of jobs. Lowest on the ladder gets the shittiest days to work. After a year and half the three guys I had been working weekends with the entire time had a "graduation." Which meant that they moved to the Monday-Friday work week. And me? Still worked the weekends. For another year and a half. The one ace that I had in my hand was that I wouldn't be spending the rest of my life working a dead-end job. This may be it for some of the rest of these guys. I think around this time I had started taking evening classes at Manhattan Community College to clear some core classes and boost my GPA. I had to get out of this place.
This job made me appreciate busting my ass. Having the chance to quit working here and go back to school to finish my degree was the goal. I always knew that I would, but looking back on this time of my life it was another stepping stone and I have a few people to thank for this. These are not in order of importance.
My parents: Thank you for making a gentleman out of me. Just because one comes from the South doesn't mean that one is born with "Southern Hospitality." You may not have pushed me hard to be the very best that I could be, but you gave me all of the support I could ever ask for. You allowed me to grow (slowly) into my own and were never too harsh. You were always loving and supportive and there to give good advice when I needed it. There are many things that one can work hard to achieve throughout life, but you've given me something that many will never come close to achieving...
A dear friend of mine once told me that I was one of the nicest people that he's ever known. Perhaps he didn't realize it at the time, but it was one of the greatest compliments that I've ever received. It may not seem like much to someone with awards and accolades to brag about. But, to me this simple compliment was in honor of you. Thank you.
Anthony C: For giving me a chance to start anew in the big city. For setting me up with a decent job and a place to stay until I could get back on my feet, again. For suggesting the idea that I should go back to school and finish my degree. Thank you.
Laura: Without you I wouldn't be here. You brought me back from a stagnant way of life that only an older sister and New York could have done. You showed me the ropes in the greatest city in the world. We've also grown closer than we've ever been and this never would have happened had you not suggested that I grow some balls and give New York a try. Without you there's no New York and all of the wonderful new experiences that I've known for the past decade.
I hope that, in some small way, I was able to make you feel the same. I wouldn't trade a single day of the last ten years for the world. Moving to New York was one of the best decisions that I've made and you made that all possible. Thank you.
Ashley: You've shown me more about myself and who I am (and can become) than I would have ever learned on my own. You've pushed me to be the best person I can be and gave me confidence in myself and my ability. You've opened my eyes and gave me the ability to see the world in its reality. You've taught me to lose the youthful gullibility and ignorance that many people never lose. You've loved me and have helped me become the person I am today. Somehow, I feel like mom guided me to you because she knew that you would be best for me, and I for you. For all that you have done and continue to do, thank you.
This post was supposed to be another "Shorehaven" story, but as I began writing I became nostalgic and remembered how it was that I came to this point in my life.
That's the way it goes with these types of jobs. Lowest on the ladder gets the shittiest days to work. After a year and half the three guys I had been working weekends with the entire time had a "graduation." Which meant that they moved to the Monday-Friday work week. And me? Still worked the weekends. For another year and a half. The one ace that I had in my hand was that I wouldn't be spending the rest of my life working a dead-end job. This may be it for some of the rest of these guys. I think around this time I had started taking evening classes at Manhattan Community College to clear some core classes and boost my GPA. I had to get out of this place.
This job made me appreciate busting my ass. Having the chance to quit working here and go back to school to finish my degree was the goal. I always knew that I would, but looking back on this time of my life it was another stepping stone and I have a few people to thank for this. These are not in order of importance.
My parents: Thank you for making a gentleman out of me. Just because one comes from the South doesn't mean that one is born with "Southern Hospitality." You may not have pushed me hard to be the very best that I could be, but you gave me all of the support I could ever ask for. You allowed me to grow (slowly) into my own and were never too harsh. You were always loving and supportive and there to give good advice when I needed it. There are many things that one can work hard to achieve throughout life, but you've given me something that many will never come close to achieving...
A dear friend of mine once told me that I was one of the nicest people that he's ever known. Perhaps he didn't realize it at the time, but it was one of the greatest compliments that I've ever received. It may not seem like much to someone with awards and accolades to brag about. But, to me this simple compliment was in honor of you. Thank you.
Anthony C: For giving me a chance to start anew in the big city. For setting me up with a decent job and a place to stay until I could get back on my feet, again. For suggesting the idea that I should go back to school and finish my degree. Thank you.
Laura: Without you I wouldn't be here. You brought me back from a stagnant way of life that only an older sister and New York could have done. You showed me the ropes in the greatest city in the world. We've also grown closer than we've ever been and this never would have happened had you not suggested that I grow some balls and give New York a try. Without you there's no New York and all of the wonderful new experiences that I've known for the past decade.
I hope that, in some small way, I was able to make you feel the same. I wouldn't trade a single day of the last ten years for the world. Moving to New York was one of the best decisions that I've made and you made that all possible. Thank you.
Ashley: You've shown me more about myself and who I am (and can become) than I would have ever learned on my own. You've pushed me to be the best person I can be and gave me confidence in myself and my ability. You've opened my eyes and gave me the ability to see the world in its reality. You've taught me to lose the youthful gullibility and ignorance that many people never lose. You've loved me and have helped me become the person I am today. Somehow, I feel like mom guided me to you because she knew that you would be best for me, and I for you. For all that you have done and continue to do, thank you.
This post was supposed to be another "Shorehaven" story, but as I began writing I became nostalgic and remembered how it was that I came to this point in my life.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Hmm. Valentine's Day.
February 14th, 2011. I'm not sure why, but this whole morning for me has been an annoyance. It's Valentine's Day and already on the way to work I was formulating a rant against this "day of love." I'm not sure why I got so annoyed by it, but I had to vent. Unfortunately, it took some time to edit what I had to say because facebook only allows 260 or so letters per post. Mine was double that length.
I'm not sure why we even celebrate Valentine's Day. Is it so that the those who sell flowers can triple the already overpriced roses? Is it so the diamond companies can make wonderful commercials that say, "Buy a diamond for the one you love. Otherwise, you're not getting laid on this very special day." Is it so the single women in the office can feel better when they see bouquet after bouquet being delivered to other women in the office? Is it so men can look forward to an angry spouse when they completely forget that today is Valentine's Day? The answer to these questions: yes.
Last night, I asked my wife if she wanted to have a special dinner for Valentine's Day. Nothing big. Just a nice dinner at home with some wine. I knew she wasn't big on celebrating V-Day (she's told me not to waste money on flowers on this particular day), but just to be on the safe side, I asked. As I thought she would, she reiterated that it's not necessary to have a nice dinner on V-Day, so we've decided to have a nice dinner tomorrow night. And this is one of the many reasons that I love her. She doesn't buy into the bullshit that is fed to Americans that V-Day is more special than any other day. I'm thinking that from here on out we'll celebrate on any day.......other than Valentine's Day.
I'm not sure why we even celebrate Valentine's Day. Is it so that the those who sell flowers can triple the already overpriced roses? Is it so the diamond companies can make wonderful commercials that say, "Buy a diamond for the one you love. Otherwise, you're not getting laid on this very special day." Is it so the single women in the office can feel better when they see bouquet after bouquet being delivered to other women in the office? Is it so men can look forward to an angry spouse when they completely forget that today is Valentine's Day? The answer to these questions: yes.
Last night, I asked my wife if she wanted to have a special dinner for Valentine's Day. Nothing big. Just a nice dinner at home with some wine. I knew she wasn't big on celebrating V-Day (she's told me not to waste money on flowers on this particular day), but just to be on the safe side, I asked. As I thought she would, she reiterated that it's not necessary to have a nice dinner on V-Day, so we've decided to have a nice dinner tomorrow night. And this is one of the many reasons that I love her. She doesn't buy into the bullshit that is fed to Americans that V-Day is more special than any other day. I'm thinking that from here on out we'll celebrate on any day.......other than Valentine's Day.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
80's child
Went out last night for a friend's birthday in Brooklyn for a 90's theme party. Jesus. It certainly brought back some memories. We started out at her apt with tasty finger foods, beer, champagne and, of course, a mix of 90's music. I didn't dress up partly because I'm not big into costume parties, but there were flannels, doc martens and even a dude with a hand-painted Wayne's World cap. Very nice.
At around 11pm we went to the evening's event at the Bell House where they have an annual remember the 90's party complete with a live band that played 90's cover songs. I've never been to this venue, but it was quite large and the showroom had a barn-like feel. Plenty of space on the floor and the band was decent. I noticed that most everyone there was a bit younger. I do enjoy going to see bands (I must admit that I don't do it often enough), but I prefer a less rauscous crowd and these folks didn't get too crazy. The exception was the two girls jumping around in front of me with no regard to anyone around them. I literally held my elbow out in front of me so that they wouldn't crash into me and instead feel the wrath of a pointed bone. The music was enjoyable and it brought me back to my high school days of grunge and alt rock music.
Towards the end of the show, however, I realized something. Perhaps it was when the band apologized and played a Backstreet Boys song and the girls went nuts (I did indeed see guys singing it, as well). I've always considered myself an 80's child, but this just confirmed it. I didn't even recognize it as a BB song, but when I learned that it was I knew that the 90's was not my childhood decade. Don't get me wrong, the 90's produced some great music and movies. I was just shocked that this song was played.
Give me some Indiana Jones, Guns N Roses, Goonies, Van Halen, Back to the Future (to name a few) and I'm a happy man. Our boy bands were those with great voices and harmony (Boys to Men) and not based on choreographed dance routines and pretty faces. I feel like a lot of pop music has gone to the crapper. Maybe I'm getting older and that's how older generations view younger ones. If so, then take me back to the 80's.
At around 11pm we went to the evening's event at the Bell House where they have an annual remember the 90's party complete with a live band that played 90's cover songs. I've never been to this venue, but it was quite large and the showroom had a barn-like feel. Plenty of space on the floor and the band was decent. I noticed that most everyone there was a bit younger. I do enjoy going to see bands (I must admit that I don't do it often enough), but I prefer a less rauscous crowd and these folks didn't get too crazy. The exception was the two girls jumping around in front of me with no regard to anyone around them. I literally held my elbow out in front of me so that they wouldn't crash into me and instead feel the wrath of a pointed bone. The music was enjoyable and it brought me back to my high school days of grunge and alt rock music.
Towards the end of the show, however, I realized something. Perhaps it was when the band apologized and played a Backstreet Boys song and the girls went nuts (I did indeed see guys singing it, as well). I've always considered myself an 80's child, but this just confirmed it. I didn't even recognize it as a BB song, but when I learned that it was I knew that the 90's was not my childhood decade. Don't get me wrong, the 90's produced some great music and movies. I was just shocked that this song was played.
Give me some Indiana Jones, Guns N Roses, Goonies, Van Halen, Back to the Future (to name a few) and I'm a happy man. Our boy bands were those with great voices and harmony (Boys to Men) and not based on choreographed dance routines and pretty faces. I feel like a lot of pop music has gone to the crapper. Maybe I'm getting older and that's how older generations view younger ones. If so, then take me back to the 80's.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Shorehaven - Bensonhurst, Brooklyn
I would like to make an effort to blog a bit more and I've thought about this post for quite a while. I think now I may issue this in installments because the memories from these three years that I worked in Bensonhurst will come to me in.....well, installments. I worked as a porter in an large apartment complex in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn from 2003-2006. More "lovely" details will emerge as these posts come out. This first post will be "general memories".
General memories will begin with my boss at Shorehaven. Granted my sister's ex got me this job because he knew my boss and he did what folks in Brooklyn called a "favor." This is how you get a position like this. No college degree. Maybe no high school diploma. No reading or writing skills? No problem! (No joke) As I said, you have to know someone. So, my boss was a wannabe mob guy. I'd heard through my sister's ex that he had a felony on his record for racketeering. A small-timer. In the mind of a kid from Texas who lived in New York for only a year he did seem a bit intimidating. I'm sure he was intimidating to others, as well. I remember coming to Bensonhurst to meet him for the first time. I was in a suit and tie (totally unnecessary as I look back) because I had just come from an interview in the city. A little smile crossed his face as I walked in and introduced myself. I was a bit nervous, but he was a nice guy and had me fill out the usual paperwork. Then, he basically asked me whether I would prefer to work 8am - 4pm shifts or 4pm - 12am shifts. The porter shift being the day shift and the evening shift was as a doorman. At the time I was 24 and thought that I'd still love to sleep in until noon, but decided on the porter shift. 8:00am in the morning it would be, then.
Overall, my boss did well by me since he knew my sister's ex. The only thing that pissed me off was that I got screwed out of vacation time that I thought I had earned. It was one of those you've only worked here for so long and your vacation time doesn't kick in for another couple of months. Bunch of crap and I remember walking up to him and asking him about it. Now, granted I've learned a ton about how to handle myself with employers since then, but basically he gave me the excuse that I hadn't worked long enough to earn the time off. I don't remember exactly how he put it, but he was intimidating when he did it. To a newbee from Texas the bum on the street corner in New York can be intimidating.
He did give me the job, which I was thankful for. I never properly thanked him when I left, which I regret a little. I am glad that I worked there because it paid $18/hr with full, union benefits. It also made me realize that I needed to go back to school and get the hell out of blue-collar work. You would not believe some of the guys that I worked with. Most of them were really good guys who would give the shirt off of their backs for you. Some were scum. More stories about "Shithaven" to come...
General memories will begin with my boss at Shorehaven. Granted my sister's ex got me this job because he knew my boss and he did what folks in Brooklyn called a "favor." This is how you get a position like this. No college degree. Maybe no high school diploma. No reading or writing skills? No problem! (No joke) As I said, you have to know someone. So, my boss was a wannabe mob guy. I'd heard through my sister's ex that he had a felony on his record for racketeering. A small-timer. In the mind of a kid from Texas who lived in New York for only a year he did seem a bit intimidating. I'm sure he was intimidating to others, as well. I remember coming to Bensonhurst to meet him for the first time. I was in a suit and tie (totally unnecessary as I look back) because I had just come from an interview in the city. A little smile crossed his face as I walked in and introduced myself. I was a bit nervous, but he was a nice guy and had me fill out the usual paperwork. Then, he basically asked me whether I would prefer to work 8am - 4pm shifts or 4pm - 12am shifts. The porter shift being the day shift and the evening shift was as a doorman. At the time I was 24 and thought that I'd still love to sleep in until noon, but decided on the porter shift. 8:00am in the morning it would be, then.
Overall, my boss did well by me since he knew my sister's ex. The only thing that pissed me off was that I got screwed out of vacation time that I thought I had earned. It was one of those you've only worked here for so long and your vacation time doesn't kick in for another couple of months. Bunch of crap and I remember walking up to him and asking him about it. Now, granted I've learned a ton about how to handle myself with employers since then, but basically he gave me the excuse that I hadn't worked long enough to earn the time off. I don't remember exactly how he put it, but he was intimidating when he did it. To a newbee from Texas the bum on the street corner in New York can be intimidating.
He did give me the job, which I was thankful for. I never properly thanked him when I left, which I regret a little. I am glad that I worked there because it paid $18/hr with full, union benefits. It also made me realize that I needed to go back to school and get the hell out of blue-collar work. You would not believe some of the guys that I worked with. Most of them were really good guys who would give the shirt off of their backs for you. Some were scum. More stories about "Shithaven" to come...
Monday, September 20, 2010
This Other World
I had my first experience with early morning (EST) English Premier League futbol today. Met up with a friend at Nevada Smiths in the East Village for an 8:15am match between Liverpool and Man United at Old Trafford. It was like another world.
Not many people in the streets on a Sunday morning in the city. I caught the M14 crosstown bus and got off on 2nd Ave, then realized that the bar was on 3rd Ave. If you've lived in New York long enough you learn to appreciate the city streets without the throngs of people. You only get to enjoy this for a few hours each day in the early morning hours. As I walked toward Nevadas I may have seen about 10 people along the way. 3rd Ave was very quiet with every one of the shops and restaurants shuddered. So quiet, in fact, that it made me second guess whether or not the bar was actually on 3rd Ave. I approached Nevadas and noticed that the windows had been blacked out with large sheets of black paper, but I had seen two people enter through the front door shortly before I arrived. I couldn't hear any noise coming from inside the bar, but as I pulled the door open the place was jammed with futbol fans! There had to be at least two hundred people! I pulled my ID out for the doorman and he waved me to step inside and closed the door behind. The only light in the place was coming from the numerous flatscreen TVs placed around the room. To be honest, I have watched afternoon matches there and never before have there been a tenth of the number of patrons as there were this morning. It felt like an untold secret to walk into this other world.
The doorman mentioned to me that there was room downstairs to sit and I headed down to find there were several seats at the bar. I found a spot near the center of the bar, pulled up a chair and ordered a pint. The match started and shortly after my friend arrived. I thought the enviroment was great! It had the dark pub feel where people did not care about how you looked. They came to watch a great match and have a few pints. As the crowd started to filter in I noticed that there was no one that was being loud and obnoxious. Granted, it was 8:30 in the morning, most people in town either still sleeping or just waking up. Everyone was completely enthralled by the match going on it was a very different feel than watching any of the American sports such as baseball, football or basketball. You have to be dedicated to get up this early to watch your team play. The match was super exciting, to say the least. After a slow start a header scored off a Ryan Giggs corner in the forty-first minute by the Bulgarian, Dimitar Berbatov, put United ahead. The second half, which would see four goals scored, was what made the match a classic. In the fifty-ninth minute it was Berbatov, again, with an outstanding overhead kick to put United up 2-0. Steven Gerrard would bring Liverpool back to within one on a penalty kick just five short minutes later. Again, just six minutes following this goal it was Gerrard who found the corner of United's goal to bring Liverpool back even in just ten minutes of playing time. How lucky am I to have seen such an amazing match! Berbatov would head one in the eighty-fourth minute to seal the victory for Man U and give him a hat trick. The first for a Red Devil in 64 years against Liverpool.
The great thing about soccer is that it is a game about placement. It's about knowing where your teammate will be before you've even cocked your leg to make the cross. I love the game because it is so simple, yet every shot on goal brings the energy through the roof. I've always wished that I would have played as a kid. I am, however, excited that I've fallen in love with the game even at this time in my life. As I left Nevadas and walked out into the bright sunlit morning. I was back in the real world. I strolled home and felt very lucky to have been, even for a short time, a part of this other world. I told a few people at work today about it and they seemed just as blown away as I was when I described it to them. I will definitely be back for an early morning match again sometime soon. Where the fuck else are you going to have an experience like this in the States. Probably not too many places.
Not many people in the streets on a Sunday morning in the city. I caught the M14 crosstown bus and got off on 2nd Ave, then realized that the bar was on 3rd Ave. If you've lived in New York long enough you learn to appreciate the city streets without the throngs of people. You only get to enjoy this for a few hours each day in the early morning hours. As I walked toward Nevadas I may have seen about 10 people along the way. 3rd Ave was very quiet with every one of the shops and restaurants shuddered. So quiet, in fact, that it made me second guess whether or not the bar was actually on 3rd Ave. I approached Nevadas and noticed that the windows had been blacked out with large sheets of black paper, but I had seen two people enter through the front door shortly before I arrived. I couldn't hear any noise coming from inside the bar, but as I pulled the door open the place was jammed with futbol fans! There had to be at least two hundred people! I pulled my ID out for the doorman and he waved me to step inside and closed the door behind. The only light in the place was coming from the numerous flatscreen TVs placed around the room. To be honest, I have watched afternoon matches there and never before have there been a tenth of the number of patrons as there were this morning. It felt like an untold secret to walk into this other world.
The doorman mentioned to me that there was room downstairs to sit and I headed down to find there were several seats at the bar. I found a spot near the center of the bar, pulled up a chair and ordered a pint. The match started and shortly after my friend arrived. I thought the enviroment was great! It had the dark pub feel where people did not care about how you looked. They came to watch a great match and have a few pints. As the crowd started to filter in I noticed that there was no one that was being loud and obnoxious. Granted, it was 8:30 in the morning, most people in town either still sleeping or just waking up. Everyone was completely enthralled by the match going on it was a very different feel than watching any of the American sports such as baseball, football or basketball. You have to be dedicated to get up this early to watch your team play. The match was super exciting, to say the least. After a slow start a header scored off a Ryan Giggs corner in the forty-first minute by the Bulgarian, Dimitar Berbatov, put United ahead. The second half, which would see four goals scored, was what made the match a classic. In the fifty-ninth minute it was Berbatov, again, with an outstanding overhead kick to put United up 2-0. Steven Gerrard would bring Liverpool back to within one on a penalty kick just five short minutes later. Again, just six minutes following this goal it was Gerrard who found the corner of United's goal to bring Liverpool back even in just ten minutes of playing time. How lucky am I to have seen such an amazing match! Berbatov would head one in the eighty-fourth minute to seal the victory for Man U and give him a hat trick. The first for a Red Devil in 64 years against Liverpool.
The great thing about soccer is that it is a game about placement. It's about knowing where your teammate will be before you've even cocked your leg to make the cross. I love the game because it is so simple, yet every shot on goal brings the energy through the roof. I've always wished that I would have played as a kid. I am, however, excited that I've fallen in love with the game even at this time in my life. As I left Nevadas and walked out into the bright sunlit morning. I was back in the real world. I strolled home and felt very lucky to have been, even for a short time, a part of this other world. I told a few people at work today about it and they seemed just as blown away as I was when I described it to them. I will definitely be back for an early morning match again sometime soon. Where the fuck else are you going to have an experience like this in the States. Probably not too many places.
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