cindy

i’m getting a new neighbor.  the anonymous girl who moved in for 11.5 months after lauren & james left, moved out several weeks ago. i was kind of glad about that. not that there was anything wrong with her – but anyone who rents a garden apartment with a backyard in the middle of manhattan and never opts to use it, has to be just a little bit freaky.  or, ok – a lot freaky.  that’s just my opinion.  she left for greener pastures in astoria.  i hope she enjoys queens .  .  .

i met cindy last week prior to the official start of her new lease, when she was trying to figure out which key opened the  door to the building.  the building has 2 entrance doors. the outside door has no lock and upon entering a very small vestibule is a second door which requires a key to open.  as cindy tried to locate the right key to unlock the door, ivan and i returned from our walk and joined cindy in the tiny vestibule where it was immediately evident that she had just farted. the 3 of us stood amidst the fart while she fumbled with her keys. after about 30 seconds breathing solely through my mouth, i practically elbowed her out of the way, put my own key in the door, pushed it open, stepped into the hallway and drew a deep breath.  following me, she soon realized i was her new neighbor and excitedly introduced herself with a big smile as though we were long lost friends – acting as if the fart didn’t happen at all.

cindy told me she would be moving in on friday and when friday morning rolled around, she knocked on my door to let me know she had arrived.

on saturday she knocked again. she wanted to know if the apartment she just moved into was quiet. i might be just being crazy, but wouldn’t that be a question to ask prior to the move? anyway, from my doorway she saw that i have brick walls and asked if she could come in to see my apartment. it turns out she liked mine better than hers and asked if i would let her know if i was ever planning to move as she would like to switch apartments. as luck would have it, i am planning to move out in a month and a half and i made the possible mistake of telling her. cindy asked if i would mind if she measured the rooms to be sure her furniture would fit and if so, she would hold off on hanging anything on her walls since it would only be a month and a half.

“sure”, i said and she left.  5 minutes later there was another knock. it was cindy - with her tape measure.  she stayed for an hour and a half.  she also never stopped talking.  i have known cindy for less than 1 day and i can tell you this:

cindy is 26 & in the process of getting a divorce, she cheated on her unemployed husband, who used to be a truck driver but got his license suspended after his 7th accident last year.

cindy makes $73,000 annually as a hedge fund analyst “but they also give nice bonuses at blackstone”, which i now know is located on 49th street, and, there is a good possibility cindy will walk to work. she is originally from queens but moved into a subletted  co-op on 55th st. after leaving her husband. she pays her soon to be ex $300 a month in alimony thanks to her mother-in-law who insisted on the monthly dues –  after all, she had paid alimony to her first ex-husband for 20+ years.  cindy moved out of the co-op because she hated the fact that after an extensive interviewing process all of the residents knew her business – including how much money she makes.  (?)

cindy hadn’t washed her hair for 3 days and apparently it it usually much “puffier” when clean, is of yugoslavian decent,  has 2 cats; one with kidney problems & uses a catheter, for which cindy gets her supplies at a pet store on 74th st.   she will be getting her groceries delivered each saturday by fresh direct and plans to use the back yard often.

i blame lauren and james.

 16

“I feel like I have a hangover, without all the happy memories and mystery bruises.”
 Ellen DeGeneres

2 responses to “cindy

  1. Thanks for this. I was a little down on myself for becoming a pseudo-recluse, living in the middle of nowhere. Now I remember why I moved here….

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