...So we took off all our clothes.
Recently I've found myself in Harlem on the couch of a gracious, beautiful friend. There's this whole financial crisis thing going on, and try as I did to stay clear of it, I wound up smack in the fuck of it. So for rest of the month I'll continue to kick up my heels in Miss L's 5th floor walk up on the East End. One month in Harlem, not so bad, right? What about August in Harlem?
Know that song "April In Paris"? Yeah, it's nothing like that. It's more like "Hellfire in Harlem". Like I said, it's a 5th story hotbox with a wall full of west facing windows rendering it a literal oven after 1 in the afternoon. My beautiful and compassionate friend isn't charging me a dime for sharing her space with me, which is perfect, since I don't have a dime to spare, but in addition to fully stocking her fridge with food and her freezer with booze & otter pops I offered to purchase for her a cheap window unit airconditioner.
She accepted all offeres with a shrug and a nod., "Sure, if you insist," she said. All but the AC. "I'm not really into it, I don't want one."
I myself usually do without as well, but this heat is the truth. The kind of heat where sitting still in the shade is dehydrating. It's motherfuckin' hot and the only thing that kept me from getting one anyway was the fact that I'd have to carry it up the bizzillion flights of stairs myself.
But now it's the middle of the month and I'm pleased to say that save for a few unbearable moments we've done fine. We wake up and fiddle around in our bras & underwear until we reach a boiling part. Then we go some place shady & cool, like a non-English speaking bar. Then we come back, immediately strip down, wet our arms and legs from the faucet, crack a beer, and continue whatever minimally active tasks we've set out for ourselves. Sometimes we catch each other's eyes and giggle. It's pretty funny, but you know what? It's just what you gotta do.
I spent all but 2 years of my life with out air conditioning and dishwashers- and even for some time I went with out mail delivery or trash pick-up. So, I think I can deal with this. I understand a city of umpteen million stacked miles high with brick and concrete ups the ante a bit, but I'm gonna make it through these stifling heat waves with cream-cheese like humidity just like I have for years...in my underwear.
It's also exciting to remember what it's like to live on so little. Weeks ago I put my shit in storage and carted a couple bags up to 116th Street. For the most part- I'm lovin' it. I mean, I miss my dog (who, for the record is NOT in storage) and I miss my expensive, ergonomic computer chair, but this whole 'living like a nomad' thing is pretty sweet and liberating. Whatever I need for the day and maybe the day next I strap on my back and ride back and forth from south Brooklyn to damn near the south Bronx. And I'm doing it all in the sticky, sweaty city. But luckily for NYC, for that part, I've got my clothes on.
