“WOW!”
“THIS is crazy!”
I shouted.
I was surrounded by gilded
Metallic
Oriental
Red and gold wallpaper
In the entryway.
I walked up the stairs
Which was more of the same.
The place was empty
Except for a pile of
Mirrored vertical blinds
Of varying lengths
Laid out upon
A once ivory
But now a mellow tobacco smoke yellowed
Wall-to-wall semi-shag carpet
In the living room.
Every visible door
Had been outfitted
With a custom made mirror
That covered the entire surface.
“This is insane!”
I exclaimed to Kevin
Who popped his head
Out of one of the rooms.
“He was a pimp!”
“What would you expect?”
He responded.
“This guy had mirrored blinds down the center of the room! Floor to ceiling! I know. I had
to take them down! Those bitches are heavy! He wants me to save them so he can use
them in his new place...”
He started laughing.
“In an old age complex!”
I took a moment to walk around.
The kitchen pass through
Was painted flat nightclub black
And had black vertical blinds.
The one bedroom was painted
Bright yellow
Coordinated with 70’s lime green bamboo wallpaper
Gloss black trim
Custom louvered blinds
With matching black slats
And yellow canvas ladder straps
Mirrored sliding glass closet doors
That opened to reveal
Beautifully cedar lined interiors.
“For his fucking awesome clothes!”
I later learned.
The main bedroom
Had a raised polished wooden dancefloor
With an opening cut out into it
Which once fitted a tailor-made
Water bed.
I went back to find Kevin
And he could tell
By the look on my face...
“His name is George. He just moved into a home. He’s 88 years old...a real character.
Smokes, drinks. The whole nine yards. The real deal. He’s gotta sell this place.”
“THIS is AMAZING!”
I said.
“Tell me you saw his furniture!”
“No. Place was empty when I got here except for the blinds.”
“Those mirrored blinds are the tits!”
I said with a lot of enthusiasm.
“Reminds me of Times Square back in the day!”
“Who knows. Mebbe that’s where he got the inspiration. I think that he told me he had
‘offices’ there.”
“The realtor told me to take those down. He said we need to lose the wallpaper, the
raised floor in the bedroom and the ‘gay’ buddy booth dividers back there...you probably
didn’t even see those. We need to get rid of all of the black paint and cover this place
in neutrals.”
“Wow. This is like destroying someone’s work of art.”
I felt sad for a moment.
Then Kevin reminded me
Why I was there.
“You just gonna look around or do you wanna get paid?”
I got to work.
Seemed a shame to participate in this demolition.
I found out
While scraping and painting
That George grew up in Brooklyn...
That he used to be a relatively
High-profile pimp in the Tenderloin
And that he decorated
This place himself.
He considered himself
A ‘Designer’
With
‘Excellent taste’.
He did little bouts of time
Here and there
But nothing serious.
Never married.
The ‘Designer’ himself
Came by a few hours later
To check our progress.
“Why do they want you to take down all of the wallpaper?”
He asked.
He stood at the top of the stairs
In his black and blueish wrinkled well-conditioned skin.
He had a generic filter
Releasing writhing snake smoke trails
From his long black fingers.
Even though he appeared frail
I actually thought he looked
Pretty fit for his age.
“Looked perfectly fine the way it was.”
He continued.
“They just don’t recognize champagne taste.”
Kevin and I didn’t say anything.
“Can I take you guys out to lunch?”
Was his response.
“Where would you like to go?”
Kevin asked.
“The diner? Pizza?”
“Oh no.”
Was his response.
“It has to be somewhere where they serve a martini...or two...”
At the bar
I asked him
How he liked living in a home.
“My doctor told me to do it. I’m 88 years old. Surprisingly I don’t have any kids!”
He laughed a little.
“At least none that I’m aware of! No baby-momma has come after me, anyways.”
“So I listened to him. Regrettably. He thought I was getting to the age where I should
have some supervision since I don’t have family to check in on me. I sell this place...I can
live there until I die. Ironically, I’ll probably die trying to live in that place.”
“To answer your question...”
He turned to look at me.
George had a giant grill of gold teeth.
“It sucks. I hate it. I’m smoking and drinking like I don’t give a fuck, because I don’t! It’s
against the rules...RULES! I’ve never lived by rules kid. THEY have rules!”
“Those glorified hallway police bastards keep coming down on me! I’ve only been there
two weeks! I’m just being myself. Not hurting nobody else.”
“They’ll kick me out for sure. There’s no way I’ll last in there.”
After lunch
Back at pimp central
I continued with the work on the wallpaper
While Kevin did some demo
In the other room.
I thought about George.
Where he’s been
And where he’s going.
Part of me wanted to leave the wallpaper in place.
To see what his furniture looked like in the living room
Mirrored blinds hung back up.
Like a Sin City showcase.
To see what his clothes looked like lined up in the closet.
But
I had a job to do
And like a pimp
I wanted to get paid.
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