My apartment in Baltimore ruled so hard. It was 800 sq. ft. and cost me $650 a month. My utilities were never more than $15. It smelled really good. I was the first person to ever live there. It was stupid of me to paint the walls but I did anyway. It had a bedroom and a huge closet. The bathroom had a linen closet. I remember being so freaked out by that: What do I put in this thing? I don’t own any linens! et cetera. There was also a slop sink. I don’t think I ever used it.
After a month or two I stopped going into my bedroom. I just hung out in the living room on that rug. Or I sat at my dining room table, which I had turned into a desk and stacked mile-high with my books. I didn’t want any more furniture than what you see in the picture. In fact every day I stared at that black coffee table and wondered if I should just toss it out the window.
Man it was real cool there. Sometimes I would go grocery shopping and then not leave my apartment for two weeks. I would watch movies in the bathtub and write for eight or nine hours till the sun came up. If I did leave I would explore the abandoned buildings I could see from my living room. Or I would climb the rainbow bridge nearby and hope the wind wasn’t strong enough to blow me into the train tracks a hundred feet below. If I got hungry I went to this little sub shop on Charles and talked to these two girls who worked there. They were so cool. I used to hang out with them for hours. They would recognize my voice when I called in. I almost worked there just for the hell of it. (When I was boxing up my room in Oakland I found the filled-out application that I never turned in!)
I only lived there seven months . . . after I was gutted and heartbroken I had to get the hell out. I went to Austin in September and stayed with my friends for the remainder of my lease. I was still paying rent in Baltimore. I didn’t return until January. My friend Perri came over and we painted the walls. It took all night. Then I moved to Austin for good.
God, dude. That apartment though. I read so many books on that rug. I wrote so much stupid crap. In the summer I opened the windows and you could smell the rain. My only regret is I never got laid there (just kidding (maybe)).
