No, actually, I'm not looking for a roommate. I know, sorry to get your hopes up. I'd let you all live with me as you undoubtedly all want to, but there'd be issues--jealousy over my attentions, fights over who gets to pay my bills and do the laundry, not to mention the living space is way too small for an entourage or harem. Alas, it's better this way.
Besides, there's the train. You may have lived by a train before, I have several times in my gypsy-like past lived in auditory proximity of the tracks. We'll just leave it unsaid whether or not I was on the right or wrong side. But, my current abode is a mere thirty feet from the railroad. Have you seen the movie Seven? Remember when Morgan Freeman laughs himself into teary splutters upon visiting Brad and Gwyneth's apartment after dubbing it "the happy little vibrating home?" That's where I live. No need to insert quarters in the beds here . . . just wait for that tell-tale whistle and low rumble and you can soon be on your way to bed shaking bliss. All by yourself even.
I've gotten quite used to the noise that would assuredly drive many people quite batty. It's actually kind of comfy, in a weird, loud way. And for you aspiring hobos out there, the train does stop right by my place, giving ample opportunity to start your adventuresome life of freedom riding the rails.
But you gotta pay me first.
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1 comment:
Now you can sell smashed pennies on Ebay!
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