Even though I live in LA now, a little of my old New Yorker comes out every so often...like this morning. It's a Sunday and I'm awakened at 9am by the repeated sound of a sledgehammer in my otherwise normal neighborhood. It's like the tenth time the construction workers showed up on a Sunday morning to do some heavy labor on the house rehab across the street. So I decide to finally get out of bed, throw on the dirty clothes from yesterday, and stumble across the street to get the name of someone to call and ask for a reprieve on the Sunday AM construction schedule. Of course, being that it's LA, not a single one of the workers spoke English and could give me the name of the owner of the building OR even the company they worked for...which, of course, is worse than not having gotten out of bed to make the complaint in the first place. There's nothing like getting yourself all worked-up to lodge a well-practiced speech about being considerate to neighbors, only to have some guys look at you like you're speaking some foreign language like...well, ENGLISH. So...This is me. Happens all the time.read more ...read less ...
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