I'm on the porch. I spend as much time as I can here. My Dick Tracy mug is almost out of coffee, just the cold, dark last sip left for me to savor. I read somewhere that it is better to drink somewhat cold coffee- you can actually taste the flavor. I don't like super hot boiling coffee. I try to ask for 4-5 ice cubes in my Starbucks Grande Dark Roast. Sometimes, for some reason, I become very shy at Starbucks and am even to scared to specify Dark Roast.
If my coffee is too hot I feel like I am suffocating, I can't breath, I need to take off all my clothes to escape the heat and sit outside in the snow naked drinking coffee. If you think about it coffee does taste the best just right before it starts going to lukewarm. That's when the caffeine has kicked in and any conversation you are having with your friend or lover or yourself becomes almost electric. The possibilities are endless! The day is so full of opportunities! We should do this and we should do that and sex and movies and food and sex and paint the kitchen green and.... Target!
I am the guy that's always on his porch when you walk by. If I could smoke in my apartment I would be in my room in front of my computer. But, as the world does it's slow crawl toward cigarette prohibition I am placed here on my porch for the time being. This is good though, because I would not leave my room if I was allowed to smoke inside. And when I don't leave my room I have a habit of eventually hospitalizing myself.
Tonight I heard someone playing Donna Summer's "Love To Love You Baby" in their apartment. Now I hear what I would call "gameshow theme jazz." Very upbeat Price Is Right style jams. I can get down with that.
There are regulars that pass by my perch through the alley. The aforementioned lesbians (who seem somewhat angry at me- see my post about them), the leather daddy who nervously, incessantly walks his dog multiple times a day and night, always looking behind him as if someone his after him, my neighbor and good friend who jogs at night and stops by to pay a visit. My other neighbor and good friend, his wife, that pokes her head through the railing, checks in on me and blows me a kiss.
There is a new neighbor right across the alley. He's in his twenties and gay and does not like me. This is what I think is going on with him- He has his first real job, foolishly bought a condo (believe me when I tell you I am not one to judge specifically on financial decisions or lack thereof, but I just get the feeling this was a hasty decision that he will regret) and now he's thinking he's in Andersonville and he's going to find a boyfriend and get a dog. He might get a dog. But with the dirty look he shot over at me when I first said "Hello!" I can say with a certain amount of confidence that he will not be finding a boyfriend anytime soon.
He bought a barbeque and some Target outdoor multi-colored lights and some plastic deck chairs. I heard him say to one of his female friends referring to our lights, "They only have white lights, I have colored!" Fuck off you angry ugly young gay man! He's in that real queeny stage of development. The only people I've seen him have over on his deck are gaggles of fag hags who he takes on tours of his apartment. I am only included on the deck part of the tour. He is real braggy about his condo and he's just an ass. I don't really remember what he's bragging about but it's annoying and stupid.
He has barbeques with his ladies but he doesn't seem like a great entertainer. One of those people who would just have hot dogs and have a bag of chips. His girlfriends stay a short time on his deck and they all gossip about the girl who isn't there. Just real mean spirited insecurity based gossip. Kind of like what I am writing here. I wish him well. He's fine. I haven't seen him on his porch lately. Or in his house. Maybe he already moved.
Then there are the neighbors down below who feed stray cats all night. At first it annoyed me a lot. The cat would come up to my deck and expect me to feed him. I ignored him. I am not so easily tricked by animals (or people for that matter)/ There has to be a boundary.
Anyway, this couple below me spends an hour every night feeding and playing with random cats that walk through the alley. I do not approve of this. I think it's cruel. Unless they are planning on adopting the cat I feel like you are just leading them on. But these two are very faithful to the cat(s) and do this every night and because it seems to be a consistent activity that they take seriously it bothers me much less.
I didn't tell you about the Mexican man who decided to sleep on our porch. I came outside at about 9:00 on a Friday night to have my cigarette and nighttime coffee and there was a disheveled Mexican man sleeping on our porch with his back up against the brick wall of our building. This was happening at the same time the neighbors were doing there cat feedings. The girl saw the man and said "Hey" very sweetly. Almost as if she was saying "Hey welcome to the neighborhood do you want me to feed you?" She was behaving like she found a new cat.
No. Not welcome to the neighborhood. I approached the man who was sitting very near my smoking and drinking coffee zone and said "Hey- you have to go." He said nothing, he was really really drunk. He was doing some sort of drunk sign language like, "No, go away, it's fine, don't worry about it." I was irritated and just kept saying, "Hey you gotta go." "You need to leave." "You have to go NOW." He shooed me away with his hand as if I was being rude and bothering his sleep.
I was just really irritated that he had interrupted my smoking time and encroached on my spot. So I called 911 and explained the situation. My wonderful straight roommate came out and did his best "very serious don't fuck with me shpeel" to get him to leave. The Mexican man shooed him away too.
The police came and got him off our porch. I guess he was carrying a desk lamp around in a plastic bag because the policeman asked if the desk lamp in a plastic bag was mine. If you are on the right side and the stakes aren't too high - Chicago Police men can be very sexy. I feel like a schoolgirl around men in uniform.
When I got up the next day, the desk lamp in the plastic bag was still there. Out of the whole experience this was the only thing that made me said. This guy walking around Chicago, near death drunk, carrying a broken desk lamp in a plastic bag. Did he buy it? Was he going to try to sell it? Whatever way it came into his possession and whatever his plans were for it- it just made me really sad. Desk lamp. Drunk.
Call me a racist if you like. But this man was Mexican. He was virtually wearing a sombrero. I know there was more to the man than being Mexican but to me he was the Mexican man. This is not a judgement against Mexican people I am just saying....forget it. I'm not going down this Paula Deen road. He was my Mexican man. And I hope he is ok, I hope he has more to love right now and more loving him than a broken desk lamp.