Chapter 3
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As Laz gradually got off the floor, he realized he was running out of time and hurried to get dressed. Finally pulling on his pants and sliding on his faded Five Finger Death Punch tee, he made his way through the cramped bedroom and out to the kitchen/living room. It wasn't a large area, only about a third bigger than the bedroom. The kitchen area consisted of a stove, pale yellow refrigerator/freezer, sink and a microwave that still used a dial setting. The living room contained a slightly bigger tube based TV that sat on the desk like piece of furniture in front of the only other window in the apartment. There was only one old recliner in front of the TV and a laptop sitting on the floor, a glaring bit of technology in this old and dated apartment. His backpack sat next to the door on the floor right underneath his jacket that was hanging on a coat stand by the front door. Without so much as a thought, Laz threw on his shoes and jacket before slinging his backpack on
his back and exiting the apartment. Turning the deadbolt behind him, Laz walked down the stairs right in front of his apartment. The chill in the air seemed to gather around the concrete steps with the rusted iron railing that still hung on despite years of weather and age. Jumping the last 3 steps, Laz walked down the line to apartment number 8 at the end of the walkway as the cold morning wind whipped his face.
Knocking on the door, Laz yelled out 'Hey Joey, my hot water tank's fucked up again. Can you pry away from jerking off long enough to fix it today?"
A head soon popped in the front window between the red curtains and while giving him the finger said, "Yeah, fuck you to kid. I'm a busy man. I ain't always got time to deal with your broken shit. Lots of these apartments need my tender love and care." The face staring at Laz was rather unkempt and jiggly, showing what happens when you eat a lot and don't exercise for most of your life.
"What tender love and care? You don't even bother going inside any of them unless there is a reason. You live here for free and barely do jack shit. I don't give a damn one way or the other, but at least act like you care when the time comes, ok?" Laz called back through the window. Joey was practically a shut who only ever left to prowl around, shop or do something else which wasn't worth thinking about. He has lived here for the past 10 years or so Laz was told by his grandpa on a good day. He was the repair man of the facility and actually did a good job, once you could get him to do anything. He was really enthusiastic a few years ago when he somehow convinced grandpa to install a high speed line from the road to the utilities area where he himself then wired it in to every room. Although he spent a lot more time doing his own room than the others, he still managed to make a usable connection in all the rooms. Although the wire ran outside the building, it was up underneath the overhang and barely noticable. Laz didn't have a problem with Joey and barely ever talked to him, Joey also didn't make any noticeable intention of getting to know Laz. It was an ideal relationship for the two "neighbors." The only other one who lived there was actually on the second floor towards the far side of the Shack. His name was only really known as Tony and he didn't interact with anyone else in the building. His rent was paid on time, he didn't make a lot of noise and there was nothing to complain about other than the people who would sometimes come around at all hours of the day. That was it, 4 filled apartments and only 1 who paid.
"Fine, leave your key in the box and get the hell out of here. I'm busy right now but will take care of it later," Joey finally relented. Not thinking twice, Laz dropped the key in the flimsy steel box in front of door number 4 and started to walk away. A barely audible "No, please don't" came out from the crack underneath the door as Joey slammed the curtains closed again. Laz stopped for a moment and shook his head, thinking to himself that it must be that **** porn again. He just wished Joey would learn to turn down the volume during the night time hours. Although their rooms weren't close and the soundproofing was actually pretty decent, you could still hear it from time to time if you went outside on the walkway. Whatever gets him off I guess, Laz figured as he let out a breath. He picked up his pace and made his way down the drive, finally getting out to the sidewalk. Unknown to Laz, a loud hoarse scream rang out from apartment 4 followed by an equally loud slapping noise and muffled grunting. This was all followed up shortly by a knock on the floor of Laz's apartment and another shout from apartment 1 calling up "LAZ, I SAID KEEP IT DOWN. YOUR GRANDMOTHER IS TIRED FROM HER TRIP AND NEEDS TO REST." As was expected, his grandpa had no idea what was going on as Joey happily enjoyed his 33rd birthday party in peace.
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As Laz gradually got off the floor, he realized he was running out of time and hurried to get dressed. Finally pulling on his pants and sliding on his faded Five Finger Death Punch tee, he made his way through the cramped bedroom and out to the kitchen/living room. It wasn't a large area, only about a third bigger than the bedroom. The kitchen area consisted of a stove, pale yellow refrigerator/freezer, sink and a microwave that still used a dial setting. The living room contained a slightly bigger tube based TV that sat on the desk like piece of furniture in front of the only other window in the apartment. There was only one old recliner in front of the TV and a laptop sitting on the floor, a glaring bit of technology in this old and dated apartment. His backpack sat next to the door on the floor right underneath his jacket that was hanging on a coat stand by the front door. Without so much as a thought, Laz threw on his shoes and jacket before slinging his backpack on
his back and exiting the apartment. Turning the deadbolt behind him, Laz walked down the stairs right in front of his apartment. The chill in the air seemed to gather around the concrete steps with the rusted iron railing that still hung on despite years of weather and age. Jumping the last 3 steps, Laz walked down the line to apartment number 8 at the end of the walkway as the cold morning wind whipped his face.
Knocking on the door, Laz yelled out 'Hey Joey, my hot water tank's fucked up again. Can you pry away from jerking off long enough to fix it today?"
A head soon popped in the front window between the red curtains and while giving him the finger said, "Yeah, fuck you to kid. I'm a busy man. I ain't always got time to deal with your broken shit. Lots of these apartments need my tender love and care." The face staring at Laz was rather unkempt and jiggly, showing what happens when you eat a lot and don't exercise for most of your life.
"What tender love and care? You don't even bother going inside any of them unless there is a reason. You live here for free and barely do jack shit. I don't give a damn one way or the other, but at least act like you care when the time comes, ok?" Laz called back through the window. Joey was practically a shut who only ever left to prowl around, shop or do something else which wasn't worth thinking about. He has lived here for the past 10 years or so Laz was told by his grandpa on a good day. He was the repair man of the facility and actually did a good job, once you could get him to do anything. He was really enthusiastic a few years ago when he somehow convinced grandpa to install a high speed line from the road to the utilities area where he himself then wired it in to every room. Although he spent a lot more time doing his own room than the others, he still managed to make a usable connection in all the rooms. Although the wire ran outside the building, it was up underneath the overhang and barely noticable. Laz didn't have a problem with Joey and barely ever talked to him, Joey also didn't make any noticeable intention of getting to know Laz. It was an ideal relationship for the two "neighbors." The only other one who lived there was actually on the second floor towards the far side of the Shack. His name was only really known as Tony and he didn't interact with anyone else in the building. His rent was paid on time, he didn't make a lot of noise and there was nothing to complain about other than the people who would sometimes come around at all hours of the day. That was it, 4 filled apartments and only 1 who paid.
"Fine, leave your key in the box and get the hell out of here. I'm busy right now but will take care of it later," Joey finally relented. Not thinking twice, Laz dropped the key in the flimsy steel box in front of door number 4 and started to walk away. A barely audible "No, please don't" came out from the crack underneath the door as Joey slammed the curtains closed again. Laz stopped for a moment and shook his head, thinking to himself that it must be that **** porn again. He just wished Joey would learn to turn down the volume during the night time hours. Although their rooms weren't close and the soundproofing was actually pretty decent, you could still hear it from time to time if you went outside on the walkway. Whatever gets him off I guess, Laz figured as he let out a breath. He picked up his pace and made his way down the drive, finally getting out to the sidewalk. Unknown to Laz, a loud hoarse scream rang out from apartment 4 followed by an equally loud slapping noise and muffled grunting. This was all followed up shortly by a knock on the floor of Laz's apartment and another shout from apartment 1 calling up "LAZ, I SAID KEEP IT DOWN. YOUR GRANDMOTHER IS TIRED FROM HER TRIP AND NEEDS TO REST." As was expected, his grandpa had no idea what was going on as Joey happily enjoyed his 33rd birthday party in peace.
As Laz gradually got off the floor, he realized he was running out of time and hurried to get dressed. Finally pulling on his pants and sliding on his faded Five Finger Death Punch tee, he made his way through the cramped bedroom and out to the kitchen/living room. It wasn't a large area, only about a third bigger than the bedroom. The kitchen area consisted of a stove, pale yellow refrigerator/freezer, sink and a microwave that still used a dial setting. The living room contained a slightly bigger tube based TV that sat on the desk like piece of furniture in front of the only other window in the apartment. There was only one old recliner in front of the TV and a laptop sitting on the floor, a glaring bit of technology in this old and dated apartment. His backpack sat next to the door on the floor right underneath his jacket that was hanging on a coat stand by the front door. Without so much as a thought, Laz threw on his shoes and jacket before slinging his backpack onhis back and exiting the apartment. Turning the deadbolt behind him, Laz walked down the stairs right in front of his apartment. The chill in the air seemed to gather around the concrete steps with the rusted iron railing that still hung on despite years of weather and age. Jumping the last 3 steps, Laz walked down the line to apartment number 8 at the end of the walkway as the cold morning wind whipped his face.Knocking on the door, Laz yelled out 'Hey Joey, my hot water tank's fucked up again. Can you pry away from jerking off long enough to fix it today?"A head soon popped in the front window between the red curtains and while giving him the finger said, "Yeah, fuck you to kid. I'm a busy man. I ain't always got time to deal with your broken shit. Lots of these apartments need my tender love and care." The face staring at Laz was rather unkempt and jiggly, showing what happens when you eat a lot and don't exercise for most of your life."What tender love and care? You don't even bother going inside any of them unless there is a reason. You live here for free and barely do jack shit. I don't give a damn one way or the other, but at least act like you care when the time comes, ok?" Laz called back through the window. Joey was practically a shut who only ever left to prowl around, shop or do something else which wasn't worth thinking about. He has lived here for the past 10 years or so Laz was told by his grandpa on a good day. He was the repair man of the facility and actually did a good job, once you could get him to do anything. He was really enthusiastic a few years ago when he somehow convinced grandpa to install a high speed line from the road to the utilities area where he himself then wired it in to every room. Although he spent a lot more time doing his own room than the others, he still managed to make a usable connection in all the rooms. Although the wire ran outside the building, it was up underneath the overhang and barely noticable. Laz didn't have a problem with Joey and barely ever talked to him, Joey also didn't make any noticeable intention of getting to know Laz. It was an ideal relationship for the two "neighbors." The only other one who lived there was actually on the second floor towards the far side of the Shack. His name was only really known as Tony and he didn't interact with anyone else in the building. His rent was paid on time, he didn't make a lot of noise and there was nothing to complain about other than the people who would sometimes come around at all hours of the day. That was it, 4 filled apartments and only 1 who paid."Fine, leave your key in the box and get the hell out of here. I'm busy right now but will take care of it later," Joey finally relented. Not thinking twice, Laz dropped the key in the flimsy steel box in front of door number 4 and started to walk away. A barely audible "No, please don't" came out from the crack underneath the door as Joey slammed the curtains closed again. Laz stopped for a moment and shook his head, thinking to himself that it must be that **** porn again. He just wished Joey would learn to turn down the volume during the night time hours. Although their rooms weren't close and the soundproofing was actually pretty decent, you could still hear it from time to time if you went outside on the walkway. Whatever gets him off I guess, Laz figured as he let out a breath. He picked up his pace and made his way down the drive, finally getting out to the sidewalk. Unknown to Laz, a loud hoarse scream rang out from apartment 4 followed by an equally loud slapping noise and muffled grunting. This was all followed up shortly by a knock on the floor of Laz's apartment and another shout from apartment 1 calling up "LAZ, I SAID KEEP IT DOWN. YOUR GRANDMOTHER IS TIRED FROM HER TRIP AND NEEDS TO REST." As was expected, his grandpa had no idea what was going on as Joey happily enjoyed his 33rd birthday party in peace.
