My Life in Pictures
CURRENTLY
Or I Can't Believe I Found my Apartment
I can't believe it. That's my current apartment above. Out of all the apartments in Minneapolis, I found mine. Wild. You'll understand if I don't mention which building it is.
As you can see from the photo, it's from 1950. Hasn't changed much.
I got nothing all that funny, but I will mention this crazy old guy that lives next door. He's apparently obsessed with his truck. He takes
5 minutes to park it just right, and has been known to just spend time walking back and forth around his truck, staring at it. He scares the
crap out of me.
But he's still not as scary as Death Cab for Claire that I have
around the corner. I think it's creeping nearer. It smells fear.
If it gets any closer I'm arming myself.
Funny thing about this place: My apartment has two entrances.
"Dear Lord, woman. Most apartment buildings have two entrances."
I see where you're coming from.
Only my apartment has two doors maybe 8 feet apart that both are accessed from the main hallway.
I've seen this in other Minneapolis apartments. A friend of mine lived a few blocks away and she had a second door opening right
into her kitchen, ostensibly for dairy deliveries. Which seemed a bit weird, as it was an efficiency apartment and not exactly difficult for
someone to take a few bottles of milk through the livingroom.
I'm guessing this is the purpose of my second door. It has a doorbell (as far as I know it doesn't work), which the main door
does not. But unlike my friend's apartment, this second door doesn't go directly into my kitchen, it goes into my hallway. And it's maybe only
one or two feet closer to my kitchen than my main door.
It is perhaps a bit obsessive, but I have focused on this for awhile. Thoughts:
1. Delivery door. Which seems superfluous, but who know what those wacky builders were thinking in the early 20th century.
2. I've got no 2. It's not like you can cordon off the area so people can only get to the kitchen. It's not like this is some
ritzy apartment where the hired help enter through the secondary door.
I consulted my father on this matter. He's an architect and contract specifier (with his own business and—if I do say so
myself—a very attractive website) and he had no explanation for it.
My next step is to consult my step-uncle, as he owns a hardware company in downtown Minneapolis. Maybe he'll have some idea.
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