I expect Saturday mornings to be loud in the apartment. It’s a day off, a day to wake up early with too much energy, a day of errands and industriousness. Upstairs they are vacuuming, here we are learning harmony, and there is a wonderful rock coming from downstairs. So wonderful, in fact, that i was sure that i recognized it.
Opening the door to our stairwell i discovered that Zoe, our downstairs neighbor, was playing my traditional airplane-landing accompaniment, PJ Harvey’s “Kamikaze.” This from the same neighbor who was blasting Madonna the day we moved in, and whose best friend is an abnormally pretty drag-queen named Dave, who occasionally chats with me in the hall.
Basically, she is the best downstairs neighbor ever. To show my appreciation, I left the following note, written on leftover coochie-snorcher-pink paper from the Vagina Monologues in red sharpie, taped to her door:
RE: You Rock
I noticed you were playing my favorite PJ record. I have everything PJ has recorded; feel free to borrow some. -Peter
ps: It’s nice to have neighbors with good taste!