i fled the west village & my soho writer girlfriend, escaped, not so much the place or the person, but rather my futon (not really mine), my part-time bookstore job, my raisin bagel with a hard boiled egg breakfasts, i was done, with having no money, done with the cacophony of 2am drunken shouts rising from west 4th street below, as i tried to dream about characters in an isaac bashevis singer novel, done with the flood of tourists who swarmed sidewalks every weekend, so i got on a train to dc, new york city chapter closed.
Tag: west village
My First Solo Apartment, 1996
throughout college i had roommates, later, i futon-surfed my way through the east & west village in the nyc, by the time i landed in san francisco during the fall of 1996 i was done with roommates for good, that is when 204a day street found me, a 3-minute walk from my job at the 30th street senior center where i was the bilingual (spanish) volunteer coordinator, $540 a month & it was mine, when i first moved in i had a cot to sleep on, 6 cds, & a plant, spartan, no question, apartment highlights included: getting up at 5am to admire comet hale-bopp from my roof, hosting thanksgiving & a paella dinner party, listening to sonny rollins on sundays while cooking pasta -my solo sf apartment adventure ended when i moved to paraguay in 1998, but there are moments when i daydream about studio-living, less really was more.
Daniel W. Polk 