Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis Archives - Page 5 of 5

We gotta bambulance…

January 14, 2010

Joel and I went to a Vietnamese restaurant¹ tonight.

We have not seen each other in about two weeks and needed to dish about our trips.² Joel brought back a cookie from the Carnegie deli, which is apparently a famous something-or-other from up yonder.

I dropped Joel off, and when I turned onto my street I found it blocked off by an ambulance and a police car. Of course the ambulance was for downstairs neighbor, and the police were pounding on his door when I entered the apartment.

I don’t understand what is going on. The police and ambulance left, and now downstairs neighbor is blaring music…what the hey? This better not mark a repeat of last summer…

Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

A community effort

December 9, 2009

When I returned from the grocery store this afternoon, I noticed a stranded car across the street from my apartment.

I threw my groceries into my apartment, snatched my caretaker’s snow shovel from downstairs, and then ran outside to help excise the jeep.
The African couple in the jeep was screaming at each other and questioning their decision to move to America. We made progress on their car when a plumbing company’s van got stuck on the other side of the street.
Chaos ensued. Snow and smoke flew from the stalled vehicles. The Mexican plumbers cursed in Spanish. The Africans cursed in heavily accented English. A traffic jam developed.

Things looked bad, so I called 311.

Me: “There are stalled cars on both sides of my street. Each car is blocking an alley entrance and a traffic jam is building.”
311 operator: “Okay, so?”
Me: “Uh, well, can you send a tow truck or a plow truck to help? The cars are causing a traffic jam…”
311 operator: “I can send traffic control to give them a ticket.”
Me: “Well, that’s not going to help anyone. And traffic control just drove by and didn’t even stop to help.”
311 operator: “Sir, there’s a snow storm going on. We are busy dealing with real accidents and real emergencies. I can send someone out to give them a ticket, and that’s it. What is the car’s license plate number?”
Me: “Nevermind.”

Click.

People came out of apartments and cars to help push and shovel. Even the Africans briefly stopped worrying about their own car to help push the van.

No progress was happening with the van. Then, suddenly the van lurched backwards and looked like it was going to T-bone the African’s car. There was screaming, but the van managed to stop 2 inches from the driver’s door. The van then slid back across the street and promptly got restuck.
The van driver ran to a nearby apartment building and summoned a small troupe of Mexicans to help him push the van. I then helped the Africans shovel around their car and we eventually got them unstuck.
Between the Mexicans and the other drivers, we had a small mob of people to help excise the van. The van driver was so happy when we freed his van, that he passed around $5 bills to the crowd.

Score!

Minneapolis-St. Paul / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Tomorrow, I clean my closets.

November 25, 2009

The goons are out in the neighborhood tonight.

Harley and I were a few blocks away from my apartment, turning a corner, when I heard a gunshot.

I stood still, watched the street, and had two thoughts:

Shit. My closets are a mess! If I get shot again my mother is going to fly up, and get buried under an avalanche of laundry.
I wonder if I will feel myself fall or if the light will just click off.

After a moment I cautiously continued down the street. Everything was quiet. We were halfway down the block when another shot came from behind the houses. Harley looked up at me like “this is some bullshit.”

And it was.

Once I got to the end of the block, a sketchy guy wearing all black flew around the corner. He clutched something in his coat pocket. I avoided eye contact and kept Harley in a short leash.

Sketch turned into the alleyway, and I made my way to a busier street.

Tomorrow, I clean my closets.

dogs / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Chubby Grace makes an observation

November 22, 2009

I ran into The Graces this morning.

The Graces are my neighborhood’s shockingly inappropriate trio of women. The Graces are like Matryoshka dolls: one is obese, another is chubby, and one is normal-sized.

I walked by the Graces on this morning’s dog walk. It’s 10am and the Graces are sitting on a retention wall passing a bottle of liquor¹ when Chubby Grace spots my dog:

Chubby Grace: “Dog!”
Normal Grace: “Yes. A dog.”
Chubby Grace: “That’s a big dog.”
Obese Grace: “Sure is! Tee hee hee!”
Chubby Grace: “And the dog has an asshole!”

Obese and Normal Grace are occupied with the bottle.

Chubby Grace is transfixed on my dog’s butt.

I am uncomfortable.

Me: “Hm. I don’t know how to respond to that….but …have a great day!”

Harley and I scamper off, leaving the Graces with their bottle.

What the hell neighborhood. What. The. Hell.

¹ Yes, at 10am on a Sunday. And this is odd because the bottle was in a brown bag and the liquor stores are closed on Sundays.

the details / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Creepy little girl

November 9, 2009

Oh look, it’s Kerli. There are several abandoned buildings in Jack’s part of Minneapolis. I spotted this street art on one of them:

The thumbnails are linked to full sized images. RSS/Facebook readers: click here if you cannot see the gallery.

Awkward and racist: Flem at the Coffeshop

October 26, 2009

My tax reading at Dunn Brothers (a coffee chain) was interrupted by some heavy drama.

First, I had the mildly annoying situation of my coffee gift card reading as if there is only 31 cents on it when the online balance is $49. The balance should be about $93 because I put $44 on it yesterday… anyway, that is NOT the drama keeping me from my tax reading…

The drama was Flem, the crazy, coughing man who was speaking REALLY LOUDLY on his phone and engaging in total overshare. Here are some gems:

Flem: “I cough, and I cough, and I cough. I live in a homeless shelter with about 40 other men and I am the loudest cougher in there.”

Flem: “Wait, I have another call coming in…yes sir. Yes. Yes sir. Well let me put you on my reject list…”

Flem: “…and I was riding my bike, all 230 pounds of me, and I crashed on the sidewalk and cracked my rib…”

Flem: “I’m living with a bunch of negros. At the homeless shelter it’s all negros. And I’m not a fan of the blacks. And no, they can’t hear me – I’m on the white part of town.”

Flem: “Things are rough here in Minneapolis. I just sold my last food stamps for $30.”

Flem: “I am taking all my medications, I’m doing all the right things…I keep my pajamas and flipflops there, I have my own uh…”

Flem: “I keep thinking I’m dying of some incurable lung cancer because it hurts so much…”

So I am sitting here exchanging smirks with the people around me. I love that this man sold his last food stamps but had a working cellphone with a headset. One of the Baristas did not appreciate Flem’s black-comments and asked Flem to leave.

Barista: “Um, excuse me sir. Can you please leave? You are bothering customers.”
Flem: “Okay, I dig it. I dig it.”
Barista: “Uh, thank you.”

The Barista goes back behind the counter and Flem changes his mind and goes ape-shit:

Flem: “BUT WHAT ABOUT WHAT FREE SPEECH? IS THERE NO FUCKING FREE SPEECH AT DUNN BROTHERS?! HUH?”

Barista: “DUDE! Get out of here!”

Flem: “No! I will not get out of here! The police won’t come before I get here! Blacks are niggers! NIGGERS! I know because I live with them!”

Barista: “DUDE! Shut up and leave!”

Flem: “NO I WILL NOT LEAVE! I WILL STAND HERE! CRACK CULTURE SUCKS! BLACK CULTURE SUCKS! EVERYONE IN HERE IS WHITE!”

Flem apparently didn’t see the five Somalis, the Mexican dude, or me.

Flem turns up the volume. He’s throwing a full out fit. Everyone gasps. The scene is charged and totally awkward.

This man is literally standing in the doorway, head raised at the sky screaming like a toddler having a temper tantrum. This was ten types of crazy. Hello Minneapolis!

Flem eventually left. I am just glad I am by the back door so I can dash out when Flem comes back with a gun…

dogs / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Mel’s working rain or shine

October 15, 2009

It is 41 degrees outside (“feels like 34”) and raining, so of course the dog wakes me up:

Harley: “Time to go poopy!”
Me (looking outside): “Bitch please. Go back to sleep.”
Harley: “Poopy! Can’t wait. Noooow please.”
Me: “Fine, fine…5 more minutes…”
Harley: “The pudding can’t wait!”

Harley jumps off my bed and scampers off.

I’m putting my jeans on to take the dog out when a hear a toot from the living room.

Harley trots out of his kennel by the time I get there. There’s a big-steamy-pile of surprise in the kennel. Harley wags his tail until I start with the hysterics:

Me: “GOD DAMMIT! THIS IS UNFAIR! I WAS GETTING READY!”
Harley: “Unfair? Equity isn’t for those who sleep on their rights beyotch! Poopy couldn’t wait.”

I clean up the bullshit surprise and then put Harley’s leash on. He gives me a look like, “What’s that for? I’ve already relieved myself.”

Me: “I am not going to be the only one going outside in this plague weather!”
Harley: “But it’s coooold and wet!”
Me: “MY POINT EXACTLY!”

Five minutes later we are on the corner of the block and I’m trying to explain to Harley how he cannot both wake me up at an ungodly hour AND sass me for the crappy weather. My glares/mental rant are interrupted when I see Mel on the corner of the street.
I haven’t seen Mel since this summer. But tonight she was working the street – without an umbrella – standing on the corner looking wet and miserable.

Prostitutes on my block were everywhere this summer, but most of them had enough sense to take their work inside once the weather started to turn. But not Mel! Rain or shine, Mel is always in business. She’s on that USPS level.

I give Mel a look like “it’s time to invest in an umbrella or reconsider your career choices.”

She glares.
The dog snorts at her and we walk off.

dogs / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Dear Mr. Postman

September 21, 2009

Dear Mr. Postman,

I understand my apartment building has small, dated mailboxes.
I feel your pain. Really. I do.

I understand that I don’t empty my mail every day like I should.
I (again) feel your pain. Truly.

But this sir, is some bullshit:

I know Glenn Beck is not making the most pleasant face here, but did you really have to wad up my Time Magazine with your greasy little hands?

Why didn’t you wad up the mailbox-spam from the Tribune? Why didn’t you wad up the community magazines that no one actually reads? Heck, why didn’t you wad up my heating bill?

Why my Time magazine? Why why why?

And this isn’t the first time you’ve wadded up my precious Time Magazine! Every time I pull out my wrinkled magazines in the coffeeshop people look at me like I’m a crazy wino.

And I blame you. And so does Harley:

Law School – 1L / Minneapolis-St. Paul / pictures / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Minneapolis, Fall 2008

August 10, 2009

I used to keep a photo blog, which was integrated into this blog.

Here are some of my favorites:

overheard / Uptown Apartment / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Yesina gets the boot

July 31, 2009

I went to drop off my rent check at the property management office¹ and ran into my landlord in front of the building:
Landlord: “Hey! How are things? How’s the building?”
Me: “The building is nuts. I feel like I live in an episode of Cops.”
Landlord: “It’s Yesina isn’t it?”
Me: “Yes. She was arrested two weeks in a row!”
Landlord: “I’m really sorry about that. That woman is a fucking idiot. I am trying to kick her out, but these things take time – you understand that don’t you? I’m not even going through a normal eviction because she’s got to go!”

So it looks like Yesina’s days are numbered. The question is: will she leave with a bang?

And: can I convince some sane law students² to take her place?

¹ It’s on my way to work. I always hand deliver my rent because no one ever believes that the rent check was lost in the mail.
² Total oxymoron.

1L summer / Uptown Apartment / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Yesina gets arrested, again

July 22, 2009

So, it’s midnight. That means it’s officially Wednesday – aka, the day my neighborhood loses its damn mind.

I hear a car running outside. When I look out of my window, I see two police cruisers in the street and an unmarked cop car on the side of the building.

1L summer / dogs / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Don’t think about it, girlfriend

July 22, 2009

I went to Wal-Mart¹ after work, so I left my backpack in the car to bring my Wal-Mart bags upstairs. I left my backpack, with my school laptop in it, was in the front passenger seat of the car.

After tossing the bags in the apartment and chucking the milk in the fridge, I got the dog for the evening walk. I left my backpack in my car because the car was going to be within eyesight during the walk.²

Harley and I were about a block away when two teenage girls passed us. The girls reeked of pot and shot me the stank eye.

1L summer / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Yesina gets arrested

July 16, 2009

Every Wednesday night my neighborhood loses its damn mind.

I only notice the chaos because I have Wills & Trusts at 8:30am the next day, which means that I should probably go to bed early – but I can’t – because on Wednesday nights the entire neighborhood gathers for a chorus of crazy.

Last night’s crazy started with two guys trying to jump a car at the end of the street. The car doing the jumping had a car alarm which went off every time the guy revved his engine.

This went on for 25 minutes.

1L summer / dogs / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

The Graces

July 14, 2009

I left work late, so the only street parking was a few blocks away.

When I got out of my car I noticed someone peering from the dirty white car across the street – it was Terry, the toothless man who sleeps in his car.

I nodded politely but Terry just kept giving me this blank-yet-rabid-stare. I could sense his eyes following me as I walked down the block…ugh.

After getting home and walking the dog, I realize that I left my laptop in my car. I decide that it is more prudent to fetch the computer than to explain to the cops why I left a laptop in a car parked next to a crazed semi-homeless man.

1L summer / Gibs / LGBT / memories / picture of the day / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Pride according to Gibs

June 28, 2009

The Minneapolis Gay Pride parade was today. I was at work, but I sent my camera with Gibs.

1L summer / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

T vs. the Somali boy

June 24, 2009

When I walked to my car this evening I noticed two Somali teens on one side of the street and T, the neighborhood drag queen, on the other side of the street.

One of the Somali teens says something loudly and starts snickering.

T takes offense.
T: “What was that?!”
The boys stop laughing as T marches across the street and stops right in front of my parked car.
T: “What? Hm? What was that?”
Boy #1: “Oh, uh, nothing. He was saying something to me about our, uh, friend.”
T: “Oh no he wasn’t. Do you think I stupid? What was it? SAY IT TO MY FACE!”
Boy #2: “Nothing, nothing.”

I get in my car, but I can’t drive off because T is still standing right in front of it, telling the Somali boys exactly where to go and how to get there…

T: “I know who the fuck you were talking about. You want to say something funny? Huh? You want to disrespect me? Well let me tell you that you don’t know who the fuck you’re dealing with little boy.”

The Somalis are freaked out. I start my car and T looks at me and then steps on the sidewalk to curse the boys out more thoroughly. I was surprised they didn’t run…

And as much as I love to see busted drag queens beating down foreign teenagers... I drive off.

A few hours later when I pull onto my street, I see T in front of my building screaming¹ at downstairs neighbor’s window.

T: “PAULITO! PAULITO! Open this god damn door right now! PAULITO! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE PAULITO!”

T and Paulito have been blaring music all night… I … don’t know what to think. But as long as she’s not screaming at me I’m okay. But I hope she’s not a regular presence in the building…we have enough crazy in this here-yonder as it is.

¹ Someone needs to tell “her” that screaming isn’t lady-like…she speaks like RuPaul by the way…And no, she’s not nearly as tall or fabulous.

Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Jerk.

June 13, 2009

Last night I got home from work and found my neighbor, Yesenia, in front of the apartment building.

Yesenia lost her key a while ago, and hasn’t gotten it replaced yet – so she’s always in front of the building waiting to be let in.

On this night Yesenia looked a bit flustered and motioned me over as I approached the building. I assume she was drunk so I smile politely and walk past her and up the stairs to the front door of the building.

Yesenia stumbles behind me and says, gasping:
Yesenia: “You know me right? You know¹ that I live here right?”
Me: “Yes.”
Yesenia: “Okay. I just need to be let in…”
I walk in and she follows me into the building. She looks really discombobulated so I ask her if she’s okay.
Yesenia (gasping): “Yeah, I got the as – sim-muhh.”
And here I am feeling like the biggest jerk in the world for assuming that a woman having an asthma attack was drunk.

I walk up the stairs but Yesenia couldn’t make it past the second landing.
Me: “Do you want me to go to your apartment and get some help from your boyfriend?”
Yesenia (gasping): “NO! No, I’m fine right here…I’m (gasp) fine.”
Me: “Are you sure?”
Yesenia: “Very.”
I go into my apartment and decide that I should go and get her help anyway. So I walk down the hallway and realize that I don’t actually know WHICH apartment Yesenia lives in.

Yesenia comes up the stairs as I’m standing in front of her apartment and shoots me the worst gasping-glare ever.

Yeah, Oops.

So later that night, around 3am, I hear whistling outside of my bedroom window. I then hear a female voice that sort of sounds like Yesenia…
Woman: “WAKE UP NIGGA! I KNOW YOU AINT ASLEEP NIGGA!”
Who was this? Yesenia’s revenge? Or was that downstairs neighbor’s unsightly female friend who keeps throwing rocks at his window?

I sit up in bed to look out of my window when I hear something SLAM into the wall near my window. I spend the next hour or so keeping the dog’s face away from the window² and praying that no one was shooting.

Update: So the angry banshee outside of my window last night was probably not Yesenia because she just buzzed my apartment and I let her and three children in. I also carried the baby stroller up the stairs…hm.

¹ Particularly odd question since we’ve run into each other at the laundry room before.
² I had to do this because whomever kept whistling…

unsolicited advice / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

Hot mess

June 12, 2009

So the night started with me tweeting my personal phone number and my reluctance to meet Steve’s crew to 1660 people. ¹

Why hello, this is called overshare.

I got over my shyness and made a guest appearance at the 19 Bar.² Steve and I engaged in the usual amount cattiness and ignored the squirrelly guy smiling wildly from across the bar. What a shame! I forgot to bring my walnuts to feed the wildlife…

dogs / Whittier / Uptown Minneapolis

What in the world?

May 6, 2009

I knew there was something afoot the second I stepped into my apartment.

The futon was flipped over and Harley was giving me the “oh shit” look.
I told him to stop wagging his tail like that and started inspecting the damage.
Aside from the futon, nothing was unusual in the living or dining room…kitchen was fine…and so was the bathroom…

…so of course the bullshit was in my bedroom. Harley’s leash was on my bed, and so was half of my lay figure (wooden drawing mannequin). The other half was in shards on the side of the bed.

I was not amused.

Harley jumped on the bed and it looked like he was covering something… or was that a shadow? No…it was a GIANT PEE PUDDLE! And there was another spot by my pillow…

My eyes grew red, my hair turned into snakes and I chased the dog around the apartment, yell. Hell hath no fury like a 1L during finals!

After raging around the apartment I took the pee soaked sheets down to the laundry room. I then realized that I had no quarters.
I threw the sheets by the washers and left the building. Two cyclists were standing in the sidewalk right outside of the apartment building. One was yarking everywhere while his friend kept telling him “Cmon man! Try and hold it, we are almost there!”

I side-stepped the puke-fest and went off to give my car a quarter-cavity search. My car was a few blocks away since everyone had already come home for the night…

The washers and dryers are $1.25 per load, and I had 2 loads of sheets so I needed 10 quarters.

So of course my car had 9 quarters.¹

I walked to the corner store clutching my 9 quarters. Mel was begging at the bus stop near the corner store:

Mel: “Can you spare some change?”
Me: “No, sorry.”
Mel: “But you have change right there in your hand!”
Me: “It’s for laundry. My dog pissed all over my sheets. I’m actually getting more change so I can dry them.”
Mel: “Ew…that’s disgusting…you DO need the quarters more than me!”

So apparently I even gross out the neighborhood panhandlers…classy!

The cashier at the corner store could only part with four quarters. He looked at me as if I was laundering money or something. Starbucks and CVS wouldn’t provide change…so I decided to take to the drive-thrus!

I had enough quarters to wash the sheets, so I started the washers and then took Harley to the car.

We started at McDonald’s. My neighborhood McDonald’s is decrepit. Their sign has been burnt out since I’ve moved in. They probably don’t bother fixing it since they close super early anyway (around 10 or 11.)

So I ordered a cheese burger just to find out that they had no quarters in the entire store. I got the burger and dumped the dimes into my console.

Next was White Castle. White Castle gave me two quarters. The lady gave me that “bitch try me” look so I didn’t ask her for more. ²

Taco Bell was the gold mine. I waited in line and watched the lady with the ordering-headset get her hair braided. I sweet talked the wild-eyed cashier into giving me $2.50 in quarters. So I was set for the night!

We got back to the apartment building, (carefully avoiding the puddles of vomit outside) and it was already time to switch the sheets over. It’s going to nice having a sanitary bed again. Mel would be proud. ³

¹ As a rule, when you’re looking for quarters you’re going to have a small fortune in dimes and nickels…
² Despite being a BAD dog tonight, Harley got the double-slider from White Castle…
³ So I was all, “YOU ARE BANNED FROM THE BEDROOM!” but that’s a challenge since it’s technically his “safety spot.” For example, wild Mexican neighbors are shooting off fireworks for Cinco De Mayo and a terrified Harley is scratching at my bedroom door. Hmmf.