My old college blog amuses me. I thought it might amuse you too. Here’s my first post from June 2004.
Living with hookers on Isabella Street
Well, this is the second blog I’ve tried to start. I think now I might be bored enough to keep it up. Although honestly, this summer is anything but boring….
There were a lot of things I expected moving into my first apartment off campus. You know, the usual… maybe we’d have some unexpected furry friends, or noisy neighbors, or a steamy couple living above us. Ha. That would be too normal. Look at who you’re talking about. You put Mand and I together in any situation and we’re sure to make it a crazy adventure.
So today I’m walking home from a shopping spree at CVS, (and yes, I do have regular shopping sprees at CVS)when I turn the corner onto the lovely Isabella Street and nearly miss stepping on not one, but TWO used condoms. I guess a normal person would be a little shocked, or at least surprised, but not me. I live on the street with hookers.
By day Isabella Street is quiet and quaint like any other residential street in the South End. It’s a short street lined with old brick apartment buildings and a Catholic Church. Come sunset…or about 11:35 PM to be exact… the street is lined with your regular pimps and hoes.
From my first floor bedroom window I’ve seen it all. Cross-dressing men in sequined red dresses and high heels pulling money from their crotches, 15-year-old hookers clad in capri-pants and hoodies getting into cars with sketchy old men only to return 12 minutes later (yeah, we’ve been bored enough to time it) stuffing money into their shoes and angry pimps yelling at the hookers and telling them if they want Gucci and Prada they need to be proud of what they do.
Usually I’ll watch them for a while, hell, it is free entertainment, and then when I get bored I’ll call the cops. Sometimes they come, sometimes they don’t.
That’s life on Isabella Street.