The water in my ground floor rent stabilized apartment in Flatbush tastes and smells like it has chalky dirt in it. I know this because I used to drink chalky dirty water for fun as a kid who did nasty things to amuse herself. Now I have put away childish things, so this morning as my no-Brita having ass was walking back home from a store with bottled water, I encountered three things on my OWN block that stressed me the fuck out: 1) a tatted up lesbian arm in arm strut nearly knocked me off the sidewalk. Gentrifiers. 2) a group of young men talking to my hindparts from across the street. 3) Jehovah's witnesses at the door of my apartment, not holding the door for my water-bearing self, but waiting until I struggled to open the door to offer me a conversation about God.
So, this is urban life, eh? This is the extreme closeness that I pay a premium for. Sometimes I do feel like Miss Manners, especially on mornings like this one, when I'm just dehydrated and want to go home and quench my thirst.
Practical solution: Get a water filter. Stop being thirsty and irritable out in the streets.
Art solution: Make a modern manners guide for life on the urban frontier.