Apartment number 26 has been listed for sale. The local real estate agent's snail mail proudly pimped its "district views", "secure block" and "close location to cafes, transport and amenities". Hey you don't have to tell me, I live in the building - and on the same floor. Except I enjoy street views and in the winter time when the tree outside my window is bare - views of Rushcutters Bay. Or in realtor-speak, "water glimpses".
I know the apartment, or at least its former tenants. They were a rascally bunch - two women and a man - three siblings (?) maybe in their mid-to-late-4os, living in a 36 sq m studio apartment. While we exchange curt smiles in the confined space of the elevator, I don't think I would be as polite when I'd spot one of them in Kings Cross huddled under one of the bare trees. Or the other in a wig, fishnet stockings and a mid-riff top. Or on one occasion, the two women were screaming at each other from across Darlinghurst Rd. So I figure, without judging people by their appearances - that they comprised of a pimp, a drug dealer and a crack whore. I wonder which of them earned the most.
One weekend, I saw clothes, sundries, crap and a beat up microwave all in the hall, spilling out of their apartment - as if someone took a shovel and pushed everything out of the apartment. I figured they moved out. Or was kicked out. (They were.)
The Hit: (Watch) Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves - Cher
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