Thursday, 22 April 2010


The guy from the city just showed up to investigate the landlady's poo collection in the alley. I was working at the desk and her father, The Farmer, and The City Man stopped to talk under my window.

The Farmer told the City Man that it was me who reported the poo. The City Man said he did not know who reported it. The Farmer said "I know [it was her]. This lady no good. This lady pay rent and ... (I missed what he said). She thinks she is going to live here forever but ... (and I missed this). I respect everybody. We try to make the place nice but they no give us a chance." And on and on.

He talked about how he is just a hard-done-by, hard-working man. The City Man clucked in commiseration and said, "I heard it was garbage. I got a complaint so I had to come out. I do not have a problem with this as long as you remove it in the next couple of days."

The most important part of the conversation for me is the "She thinks she is going to live here forever but ..." I have often felt that it is the goal of the new regime to dislodge me from my perch here on the Lane. I guess I was right.

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