My neighbor? At 48th and 8th?
She's a sculptor - makes all her art out of garbage, like cans and old refrigerators and shit.
I coulda died the first time I saw her stuff. I walk into her studio and I'm surrounded by, I swear to God, like a hundred gigantic, six foot dicks. Made outta like hubcaps and coke bottles and what not. Seriously! All these schlongs, as big as me!
She said it was something about our patriarchal society and man's oppression of women but I'm thinkin' Uh huh - this is a girl who definitely needs to get herself laid.
Thank Christ she moved 'cause she'd cut out at night to scavenge for junk and then she'd wake up the entire building, draggin' these huge slabs of metal up the stairs... BANG! BANG! BANG! Three o'clock in the freakin' morning!
Then she'd just shove it into her closet and I guess wait for creativity to strike.
One night, around Christmas time, I hear this terrific crash - like the whole ceiling was fallin' down. Turns out it was. Seems the Penis Lady'd crammed so much crap in her closet, the entire floor gave way and EVERYTHING fell into the apartment below.
Little Timmy Ramirez? He was under the Christmas tree tryin' to sneak a peek at one of his packages and the whole friggen' ceiling comes right down on him. Merry 'effing Christmas, right?! It's a miracle he didn't die!
Oh, yeah, he lived... but he's not quite right. He's got a stutter and like a weird facial tick and, well, a pathological fear of trees. Seriously. Get him within an inch of Central Park, the kid runs screamin'.