Actually, what a great name for an action movie star. "And now! Stark Terror in The Eggplant That Ate the World!"
But not so funny, actually, when it's you...or, as the case may be, me. I am now officially fucking terrified in my own apartment. Today was the last goddamn straw. I was informed by the super that I couldn't smoke at the front of the building.
This is about IT. If I can't smoke inside, and I can't smoke outside, are they expecting me to find an entirely new dimension in which to smoke?
Meanwhile, I am in possession of what purports to be an email from the people upstairs which reads like everybody's hysterical dreams. It is dated January 11th. Now, if we can all think back, we will remember that I moved in here on December 21st. By my count, that makes it about three weeks, maybe a little less. And remember, the moment I was informed of a smoking problem, I promptly went out and bought an air purifier. This would have been about January 3rd.
I then proceeded to do all kinds of nipups with said air purifier, to wit: Ashtray directly in front of machine. Ashtray emptied AND WASHED after every cigarette. Trash can into which said cigarettes went, sprayed with Lysol.
And this email, dated January 11th, goes on at great length about the fact that their entire apartment, all their clothing, bedding, upholstered furniture, etc., etc., ad infinitum is completely permeated with the terrible amounts of smoke coming from my apartment.
Um. No. This is a physical impossibility. In order to cause this much damage in precisely 20 days of smoking in my apartment (6 or 8 of which were with the air purifier), I think I would have had to A. bore a hole through my ceiling into their apartment, and B. smoke at the very least 6 packs a day. Since I have been doing my level headed best NOT to cause a problem, I just today opened a pack of cigarettes that I bought last week. Does this sound to anybody like I'm sitting here smoking all day? I am admittedly (when possible) a heavy smoker, but in this situation I felt it best to restrain myself, so one pack lasted me damn near a week.
The bottom line is that I am now completely terrified in my own lovely apartment. I'm not allowed to smoke indoors, I'm not allowed to smoke outdoors without standing in traffic, and these people are making my life a complete and total misery. I even bought myself an electric cigarette (it's due to arrive tomorrow) to please them...and they all seem to be bent on harassing me. I went to Home Depot today and got all my necessary new bookshelves, and they were supposed to be delivered between 5:30 and 8:30 tonight, but I got so frightened that I moved the delivery date because I remembered that I wasn't allowed to move in except between 9 and 5 Monday through Friday. I don't think I should have to live in fear of what I'm doing all the time.
You have no idea how terrifying all this is. I'm afraid to cook, for fear someone will object to the smell. I haven't even set up my tape player/radio/record player because I'm afraid someone will get me on it. And when I watch TV I keep the sound so low I can barely hear it. I'm frightened to death of these people.
But I'm back on Boardwalk Empire! Where I can fucking sit on a bench on the boardwalk and smoke a goddamn cigarette in peace and quiet.