I'd just won the war against my super, and he'd finally stopped propping our building’s doors open with rocks. I was ready to breathe easier, happy to be living in a more secure building.
I was on Facebook chatting with a friend I’ve known for years, and I was telling him about how I fought the super and won. He commented that in all the years he has known me I always have weird building things happen to me and speculated that maybe I was somehow drawing these odd occurrences to me by the Law of Attraction.
I told him I’d research this and give it some thought, but I suspected it is merely that the Universe has a great sense of humor and hates me.
JUST THEN my intercom buzzed, and not expecting any packages or deliveries, I was toying with the idea of not answering it. I had a really weird feeling and was thankful that--for the first day since I have moved here--no one could get to my apartment door without being buzzed in by me first.
The caller was persistent, so I went to the intercom and asked who it was. They mumbled something and kept ringing, so against my better judgment, I buzzed them up.
Usually I stand in the hallway with the dog to see who will be walking up my steps, but this time I had a weird feeling and kept my door locked.
I turned on the hallway light (I have a light I paid to have installed over my door that I can control from inside my apartment because my half of the hallway is pitch black) and peered out to find a man who was trying very hard not to stand in front of the peephole. Creepy!
Thankfully my dachshund barks and growls sounding like a pit bull and I shouted, “Who is it!?” He responded, “I read your Craigslist ad advertising massage.” I firmly informed him he had the wrong apartment and to please leave the building. Having lived in a building that the NY Post named “The Hooker Haven” across the hall from a make-shift brothel/identity theft ring, I am no stranger to this sort of mishap.
I returned to Facebook chat to relay the strange, real-time incident to my friend who had the supposition that I somehow draw weird things to me. Agreeing it was almost serendipitous, he quickly scoured Craigslist to make sure no one had placed a crank ad advertising my apartment.
He found the ad, which the 24-hour bodywork/tattoo/hair salon downstairs had placed. The ad is hilarious but stupidly posts my address not explaining that while clients may be loved long time, the fun will ensue at the salon, not in one of the apartments upstairs.
I will present this without commentary because I trust you can come up with your own:
Great Therapic Massage Make You More Beautiful (Midtown West)
Date: 2012-05-07, 2:05PM EDTReply to: [redacted]
Do you feel a lot of stress in daily life?
Do you want to get rid of the unhappy issues?
We have most professional Russian & Asian masseur~
We know how to relax your body and bring you peaceful~
Trust us, you come, you'll know how good we are~!
call us: [redacted]
open time: 24 hour 7 days
[address redacted]
Kelly Kreth, recently returned to Hell’s Kitchen, chronicles her misadventures in her tenement-style walk-up in this bi-weekly BrickUnderground column, Hell’s Bitchen.
Also by Kelly Kreth:
Hell's Bitchen: I vow never to move again
Hell's Bitchen: Meet my super, Aquavelva
15 things I've learned from 'Million Dollar Listing NY' so far
The 20 deadly sins NYC rental agents should never commit (but do)
Escape from the UES: Goodbye douchebaggery, hello Hell's Kitchen
Dear Neighbor: I am your worst nightmare
Living next to a bridge & tunnel club: KY Jelly wrestling, all-night noise, no regrets
