Hall of Stoners

Sure an Island of Lesbos is cool. What red blooded God fearing man doesn't want to see such a thing? But, does it give you street cred? No.

Which is why I much prefer my living situation.

This morning from 10-11:30 am three young men stood outside my door in the hallway smoking weed and looking out the window.



I left my apartment to go to the grocery store. "Hey guys." Nods back. As I'm leaving, Aziz was leaving his abode, coming down the steps.

He says to me, "Man I hate the cold, prefer the warmth. Atleast you can take clothes off to cool down when its hot, in the winter you can bundled as you want, but its still cold."

I reply, "Yeah, you got to find somewhere warm to stay at when its cold."

Aziz says to me, "Yeah, I'm glad you understand."

Wait. Understand? No, I don't understand you living above me not paying rent, just being sketchy. Because we're talking in a familiar manner and because you sleep in my stairwell, it doesn't mean we're neighbors. And you know why we're not neighbors-aside from the fact you don't pay rent? Because you masturbate in the stairwell.

My roommate, Chad, decided to go up to the roof a few weeks ago. It was a nice night, why not take in the view?

As Chad tells it:

I turn the corner of the stairwell. At the landing halfway up to the door, I turned right. Then I see Aziz's pants around his ankles. He was reclined on the steps. I couldn't see his hands, but they weren't up in the air, I know that. I screamed and ran down the stairs. He got up suddenly and stammered something about changing his pants because he'd just got back from Riker's Island and they gave him the pants he was wearing when he got in, and he was changing out out them because they smelled bad.