It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood

As I stated in my last post, I've just moved to my own place downtown in Gastown. For those of you not familiar with Vancouver, Gastown is what could be considered a "heritage" section of the city. It's right by the waterfront of what I believe is the Burrard Inlet, and as I understand it's the only section of Vancouver that survived some big fire that burned up the rest of the city at the beginning of the century (don't quote me - my knowledge of the history here is vague). Anyways, the first little portion of it is pretty touristy as it still has cobblestone streets and quaint little shops, but it borders what is probably the worst part of Vancouver, being the East Hastings area. Knowing this, my place is right on the verge of the complete sketchiness of the Hastings area (I'm only one street down), but it's not so bad that I'm afraid of being attacked or anything. I'm pretty much right on the border of the nice area and the cracked-out area. This explains why I was able to find such reasonable rent.

Ok, so that having been said, I've already had a few interesting experiences down here, one of which happened only this morning, which has inspired me to chronicle them somewhat.

First of all, about a week or two ago I saw something that I wish I would have had a camera with me to document, as it pretty much summed up the area. I was walking back to my apartment with Ruth Ann after we'd been out to the (nude) beach and then dinner afterwards (for reference's sake it was a cold day and we didn't encounter any naked people (for shame!), nor were we naked ourselves - it's just a really nice beach). Anywho, I spotted something on the sidewalk and as I got closer I could see more clearly what it was. There was a very large and well formed pile of poo (which I'm assuming and hoping was from a dog) sitting on the sidewalk, the kicker being the big needle sticking out of it. Yeah, that about sums this place up alright.

I also happen to live above a bar which, sadly, hosts karaoke nights Wednesday and Thursday nights, so I get to listen to all the off-key drunks the floor below belting out crappy radio hits of yesteryear such as Alannah Myles' "Black Velvet". They also turn into some sort of hoochie-bar on Friday and Saturday nights, so they play dance music loud enough that the bass shakes the dishes in my sink until two in the morning. Suffice it to say, I don't get much sleep on weekends. So, with that having been said, the other night (a rare quiet one, for that matter), at about midnight, I believe, I was laying in bed reading with my window open when I heard from the floor above me, randomly, "Take that fucking video arcade music and die motherfucker!" (please excuse the language, I'm merely quoting). I could honestly not hear any music at all from where I was, but it must have been bad because a few minutes later I hear again, "Hey asshole in 313 - turn that fucking video arcade music off!". Then there was the sound of a door opening and closing, and for a period of about 15 minutes I could hear someone running up and down the stairwell, which my room is adjacent to (for reference, I'm on the second floor, so these guys were a floor above me). At any rate, it made me laugh. I also had the feeling that I probably would have liked whatever music the guy in 313 was playing, unless it turned out to be the Postal Service (which is also indicative of the nature of my building - I've seen several indie-rock scenester types here, as well as far less savoury characters).

Ok, and finally, the one that occurred only today, and which I consider to be the best so far:

Last night I was awakened around two in the morning by the sound of scuffling, chewing, and the ripping of paper. Upon inspection I found a mouse eating it's way into a garbage bag I had out that I hadn't yet gotten around to tossing. It ran under my fridge when I turned on my light, and there wasn't anything I could really do about it, so I just double bagged the garbage and stuck it in a drawer I took off the computer desk someone gave me when I moved in here. I'd been meaning to throw that out also, so this was all the incentive I needed to get rid of them both asap. This morning I took both the garbage bag, which was full of old magazines and quite heavy, and the drawer, also very heavy as it was made out of solid wood, into the alley beside my building. It was heavy enough that I had to carry it with both arms, so I gave it a big heave to toss it into the dumpster. As soon as I did I heard this loud yell as the drawer, with the garbage bag in it, came down hard on some homeless guy's head. I was immediately alarmed because I wasn't sure what was going to happen, if this bum was going to a)pass out and need medical attention, or b)freak out and come after me. There was some other semi-sketchy looking guy standing there when this happened and he looked into the dumpster and said, "That's what you get for dumpster diving". The homeless guy just rubbed his head whilst moaning. Then he stood up, faced me and smiled, revealing the fact that he had maybe four teeth in his mouth, and said, "It's my fault. If I'm not bleeding then I'm OK". After my initial alarm had passed, the scene replayed itself in my head and I must admit that I had a pretty good laugh as I walked to the Seabus. I mean, by no means would I have ever wanted to throw some big-ass drawer on some homeless guy's head, but dang, it was pretty comical. That thing was heavy! I just hope he's ok.

Yeah, and that's what it's like to live in my building. I think I'm going to invest in some mouse traps.