An actual
hand written sign in a dark, dark, dark
doorway on
New York's
Lower East Side (Second Avenue, west side of the street between Fist and Second Streets).
It
was a
piss infested doorway to be sure; on a hot day if the
wind was blowing the right way you could smell it from twenty feet or so away. Most folks - myself included - would rather cross the street than pass within sniffing distance of it. It was that bad.
I always maintained it was
bum-piss, since
everyone knows that bum-piss is the worst.
My sensible
girlfriend, ever quick to correct me, insisted it was from the
alcohol charged
frat boys who had been out
raising hell in our
neighborhood before heading back home to
Mommy and Daddys place on the
Upper East Side. Her
idea did make more
sense than mine, but I wasn't convinced.
Anyway, the
fucking doorway fucking
STUNK!
I used to
ridicule the sign, noting that anyone who would piss on someone elses home couldn't read at best, and at worst just didn't give a shit.
But
I was wrong!
In about
one month the
stench was gone! Maybe it was a miracle, maybe it was the rigorous and
daily application of
Clorox, I wasn't sure!
My girlfriend smugly insisted that
everyone had a sense of
social responsibilty; that
nobody was beyond hope. There was a chance for ANYONE!
I thought it had more to do with the rowdy Hells Angel
(Luis! A great guy and 'howa doing dude?' if you're reading this!) building management hired to
kick the living shit out of anyone pissing on tha door at night.
Just my opinion, of course.