In The City that never sleeps and the Girl who watches it, I wrote about Daughter’s studio apartment downtown and the giant building being constructed in her face. That was a year ago. Now the massive structure has been completed and is revealed to be a residence for students of one of the city’s institutions of higher learning. In the end, for all its high tech glossiness and fabulous location, it’s a dorm.
Daughter’s building is bugging. To longtime residents entrenched in the neighborhood, the idea of living next to a thousand college kids is appalling. There has been much discussion at building co-op meetings about this new situation over a year in the brewing. How will the neighborhood be affected? Will more food markets be built to accommodate this permanent wave of transient residents? Are bars and clubs going to spring up to provide the usual recreation activities for university-age people? Mostly, WHO DO WE COMPLAIN TO?
The person not complaining is Daughter, herself five years out of college. “Man, does this bring me back,” she reflected, smiling. “All the crazy stuff going on in those rooms, the kids walking in and out all the time. The vogueing in front of the mirrors, the unmade beds for weeks on end, piles of clothes on the floors. . .” Her voice trailed off in cosmic reverie.
I asked her how she knows all this is happening inside the building and she laughed. “Mom,” she said patiently, “the last thing a college kid buys is curtains. It’s not even a cell-sized thought in their heads. That building is a fishbowl.” On the other hand, she was inspired to purchase better coverings for her own windows so the student neighbors couldn’t look in to see what life is like five years out. Of the two sides of the glass, I’m not sure who would be getting the bigger education and I don’t want to know.
The subject of living arrangements came up again at our weekly dinner out with Son. While eating sushi with Husband and I, Son revealed that things had changed at the house he’s been renting for the past year with two co-worker friends.
SON: One of my housemates left to take over his sister’s apartment after she moved out, and the other one wants to live with his girlfriend so we’re not renewing our lease on the house. It’s up next month.
OSV: What will you be doing?
SON: I’m coming home.
OSV:
SON: Did your heart just stop? You should see your face, Mom. I’m kidding. I found an apartment. Breathe, okay? Take a deep breath.
Husband stroked my cheek until the color returned. Then I gulped the rest of the antioxidant green tea from the mug in front of me. I’m getting too old for these shocks to the system.
Street Art Around Town comes to us via Daughter’s Featured Fotos
the message
x marks the spot
warning
no parking mural in dumbo