Home Alone in the Burg
Estimated reading time: 14 minutes, 25 seconds
Rent Strike
The knock on the apartment door was loud and persistent. I was in a hurry as I needed to get to Sheepshead Bay to pick up the car I was driving to Florida. “One minute,” I yelled. I tied my shoes and ensured I had the contact information for the person I had to meet to pick up the car. I opened the door, and Rose Martini, the landlady’s daughter, was in the hallway. We were the same height, but she was much bigger than I was.
“How are you, Richard?”
“I am OK, but I would be doing better if your mother would fix the heat and hot water.”
“If you would pay the rent….”
“I will be happy to pay the rent monthly and the back rent once the repairs are done,” I interrupted her.
I had been on a one-person rent strike due to the lack of heat and hot water. Technically it was not allowed as the building only had two apartments.
“She can’t make the repairs without the rent.”
“Not my problem.”
“I have a deal for you.”
“I am not interested in a deal; I want the apartment fixed before the winter.”
“I am a exotic dancer, and I can give you free tickets to my next show if you pay the back rent.”
“What kind of dance? I like Ballet, the Joffrey, Alvin Ailey, the modern ballet companies.”
“We are a different form of ballet.”
“What do you mean? And what kind of dance?”
“It is exotic dancing.”
“I have never heard of it.”
“I know you would like it. The performances are in Rahway.”
“Where is that?”
“New Jersey.”
“New Jersey is too far away, and I am not interested in your offer. Tell your mom I will pay the rent when I have heat and hot water. I have to leave soon,” I stated as I closed the door.
I waited long enough for her to leave the building and then raced down the stairs.
On the way to the subway, I ran into Peter, a friend.
I explained what offer the landlord had made.
“Exotic dancing is naked women! I would have taken that deal,” Peter said with an odd smile.
“Not me! I have to go. I’ll see you in September.”
How could I give up on the rent strike? I could move as I had options. But the next tenants probably would not have options. How could I give up on the rent strike? s. Why would I sell them out to watch a woman dance naked?
As I boarded the subway, an idea formed in my brain, should I stop by campus and reunite with my imaginary girlfriend if I drove south? Of course, she broke up with me at the end of 1971. Perhaps it is not a good idea? What if she does not remember me? But maybe the only way to know the power and magic of love!
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
