WELCOME

to my tiny apartment.

hello! good to see you. you need to borrow two eggs?

yup--i’m so glad you were home when i called. i didn’t feel like running to the store.

what are you making?

i’m trying to make lemon bars.

how gourmet!

yea i think so, but we’ll see.

I can’t believe that you’ve never seen my apartment and you live so close. Would you like a beverage?

sure

I have Red Stripe, Harp, ice water, cold water, and warm water.

red stripe, please.

excellent choice. be right back.










whistling






here we are.

thank you!



cheers (clink). here, let me give you a quick tour of zee apartment. my room is right there behind you. go ahead.

aaah. great bay windows. love the clock.

why thank you. the clock was my first real voluntary home decor purchase.

looking around
it’s...umm...minimal. post-modern. sparse. essential.

mmm yes...i don’t have passion for home decor. whatever. i save money that way. i sort of wish i wanted to chase after a blonde oak end table with angled glass accents...it seems so romantic and sophisticated to be in hot pursuit of expensive pieces of furniture.

do you have nice furniture?

uhhh...ikea? i guess i know what i like when i see it, and i can envision things in different parts of my room when i see them in a store. i want everything, but can’t afford anything. ikea and i have a love/hate relationship.


i classify ikea in a similar functional category as forever 21. there can be good finds here and there, but you have to be en guard, lest you get attacked by immense amounts of crap when you walk in the door. isn’t ikea swedish for crap?

probably. i’ll consult my babelfish later.


roaming eyes
nice shoes.

uhh thanks.

you don’t like them?

no, it’s not that. i LOVE them. mm. my lust for shoes is both inspiring and embarrasing.

why?

look at them. they’re ridiculous.

they’re hot.

why thank you. i’d like to think so. but look:
12 pairs.
all pointy toed, except for two.


it’s so excessive. i have two feet.

the sheer volume is ridiculous. this is why it’s good that i don’t lust after furniture--a pair of shoes is much less expensive than a sofa. but still expensive enough.

i like the canary yellow ones.

ooooooooooooh thank you. i love those. they’re the latest addition. 80s kitsch is back with a vengance.

seriously. speaking of which, do you have the new new order album?

naah. heard good things about it, though. i figured i made my contribution by buying the new tears for fears.

fair enough.



let me show you the kitchen. it looks like you need another drink anyway...you have all day for lemon bars.

walking

oh, here’s the split bath--

pausing for a brief inspection

more walking

here’s the kitchen.

adorable!

microscopic!

aww, it’s so sweet. i like these big comfy chairs you have here.

yea, since it’s the only common space we try to make it living room-ish in this 3 by 7 foot area at the end. harp?

yes, please.


pop
pop


i like all the plants, too.

ah yes. i contributed almost nothing to the communal areas of the apartment. it’s all my roommates--they’re good about decorating and making it warm and welcoming...i’m not so much of a gardener/botanist. i sort of wish i was.

come now. i’m sure you contribute a lot.

yes, i brought a really nice can opener. works like a dream--smooth and perfect. i think it’s german.

oh! a patio!

yea! also small and cute, in keeping with the general theme of the apartment. we’re growing strawberries.

do you guys sit out here often?

mmm not really. occasionally i’ll sit out there and talk on the phone, but mainly i just check in on the strawberries and avoid the obnoxious old man that lives across the way, in the other building.

obnoxious old man?

mm yes. he’s a nice guy--but he’s always sitting on his tiny square of a patio and smoking and reading shit mystery novels. when i first moved in, i thought about how friendly and chatty he was when we first started talking...but then the conversation never ended. i think that we were talking about the pigeons. he complained about pigeons and how filthy they were for at least ten minutes, which is a long-ass time to be having a substanceless conversation with your old-man-neighbor-across-the-way.

i figure, inspect the strawberries and avoid eye contact. i leave him to his singular talent of rotting his lungs and his brain at the same time.


what a reductive statement.

yea. that’s my talent.

did you want your eggs?

sure, that’d be fab! thanks again. love the apartment.

why thank you! here you are. i want a lemon bar when you’re done.