Quality Community Member

A few weeks ago I was checking the mail for a very important letter that never showed up but instead found a pet catalog dedicated entirely to bird items. The sticker on the cover alerted me that they hadn't heard from me in some time and they were curious to know if I still wanted to receive the catalog. Since I had never received the catalog before I turned it over to discover that it was addressed to the woman who lived in the apartment before us.

I was actually pretty excited to imagine the happy coincidence that is two different couples living in an apartment back to back and both being bird owners. I was stoked to get her junk mail because bird owners are sadly neglected. I can think of 3 pet stores in our neighborhood and all of them are bursting at the seams with collars, harnesses, dog clothes, cat chew toys, and kibble. But only one of them has bird seed for sale and there is only one option and often they are out of the size I need.
And if you go to a large chain pet store the bird section is actually just as pathetic. Surrounding the cages filled with depressed looking exotic birds are a few bags of food- none appealing. The last time I was in PetSmart the only bag of parrot food that would have worked for us had a giant spider web growing inside of it.

So here I am, with this new catalog. I open it and it rocked my world. Toys and exercise stands and even food at a very normal price. So I wrote down my wish list and ordered 60 dollars worth of bird items and got free shipping which is a win/win because what's the point of paying the same price if then you have to pay for it to show up.

I guess the most pathetic part of this bird nerd fest is the level of anticipation that I had for the box to arrive. I couldn't wait to torture Vinnie and Claudia with their new hanging toys with bells and chew treats and perches flavored like pineapple. I realized in some not-exactly-the-same-thing-but-as-close-as-I'm-gonna-get way that this is what a new parent must feel like on baby's first Christmas. The baby has no idea what it's getting. Is too young to have really requested anything but you can't wait to see their faces when the toys appear.
And just like that tiny let down and yet not-so-surprised feeling when baby only cares about the box I find myself staring at the new items in the bird cages with a giant smile while Vinnie just screams and screams in terror.

*******

It's time for another great example of the quality of the citizens of Inwood: I was returning from a visit to the gym (so rare it's amazing I still know where it is) when I noticed a guy dressed slovenly in the usual gangsta' attire and he was avidly grabbing his junk and shaking it around while loudly talking into his cell phone.
"No! No, I said! My dick don't burn! That's what I've been telling you! My dick don't burn so I don't have it. I don't know. I just know my dick don't burn so I'm not worried."

Oh the scenarios that went through my mind after the cringing was done. Does she think she gave him something? Does she think he gave her something? What does he think? Nothing, he clearly doesn't give a shit. And more importantly what are the odds that she's going to sleep with this guy again? I'm going to go with 'most definitely' because, as if the loud and very public phone conversation didn't convince you, if you saw this guy you would know that he didn't appear to be quality sexual partner material and yet he'd clearly 'hit that'.

But since we'll never know keep your eyes out single girls of Inwood! There may be a local fella who might be available and apparently he is free of that pesky dick burn.