This actually isn’t meant to be a predominantly personal blog. Nothing less than the entire history of Columbus Ohio will be attempted in these pages. Still, personal anecdotes provide the perfect entry point for attacking this stuff, so here goes.
I actually don’t remember the specific address for this apartment (I can find it in about five seconds on Google Maps, but they have it mislabeled as Governour’s Square, which is across the street), yet there are a ton of fondly recalled and very specific memories stemming from here. This is the residence which immediately followed 1990 1/2 Summit Street and while losing one roommate as a tradeoff – theoretically gaining a little suburban respectability in the process – Alan and I have plenty of adventures with the same old cast of characters. This is also the space I will eventually share with Jill, my first live-in girlfriend of the city and mother of my child.
The very night we move in, Alan and I and a friend of his nicknamed Snoop stumble upon a pair of attractive females skinny dipping in the pool. Somehow, Snoop knows one of the girls and somehow, incredibly enough, nobody else shows up outside the five of us, at least not that I can recall. These girls even wind up coming back to our apartment to change back into their clothes. We think we have our meal ticket punched with this episode, but, sadly enough, none of us ever see these chicks again and nothing this sensational happens at the pool for the remainder of our residence here.
Still, colorful episodes abound, even as we are quote unquote growing up a little bit by moving away from campus. One of these involves a night where my microwave stops working, and somehow we get it into our heads that we will super glue it to the front door of our neighbor across the way, Nicole. As the only two apartments up here on this wing of the second floor, it kind of feels like we are hurtling through space and time together, Nicole and us. I mean, we are friendly enough up to this point and she hangs out at our place quite a bit. But yeah, she will wind up calling the cops this particular night and we never speak to her again:
So okay, the first problem is that the microwave won’t stick to her door. I mean, the four of us – there are four guys actually involved with this prank, although only two show up in the photographic evidence – even leave to go get a bunch more super glue at Kroger at one point, and still it won’t hold. So we give up on that concept, and prop it up on something instead, as you can see in the picture above.
Feeling a bit miffed in this regard, we then get the bright idea to torch her Christmas wreath. The sunglasses Big Paul is wearing at like 1:30am are a nice touch:
Okay, so this is turning out to be not such a hot idea. We eventually throw the entire project aside – quite literally, as you can see below – and medicate ourselves with some late night pizza at Hound Dog’s. The next morning, our downstairs neighbor Yu asks me in passing what I think might have caused such mayhem, and speculates that it could have been a stray dog.