don't judge a dj by his mom

"oh man, you gotta blog that."

"mm, i don't know. i don't want kanye west to show up at my front door and knock my block off."

"he WON'T."

__________

i bought a condo a year and a half ago. it was peppered with problems. luckily, the other people who live in this building are lovely, awesome people who organize condo association meetings during which they gripe, for about two and a half hours, about all of our problems. so while they prattled, i took a personal inventory of those around the table, and according to what i saw, i constructed their lives in my tiny brain.

one young man in particular stuck out – my neighbor. he never said a word at these meetings and always showed up with his mom. he always starting off into space, not really seeming to be affected by the gravity of most situations. sometimes he'd reach out to pet one of the cats, but that's about it. his mom was a real firecracker, however: "i can't have my son living in these conditions! do i need to be up all night worrying about his leg being caught in the elevator door?"

how sweet. i gently smiled at him. perhaps he's "special". but i'm glad he's independent enough to live on his own.

soon enough the gossip mill made us all aware of each other's professions. we learned why some of us drove escalades and others (me) drove rusted out civics. my condo association meetingly-challenged neighbor was a dj.

he once knocked on my door to borrow my swiffer. "did you break a glass? be careful!" i warned.

a couple of weeks ago, kanye "george bush don't care about black people" west was the musical guest on snl. i lay in bed watching the show and amid the fly girl dancers, i spotted my neighbor. i sat up screaming. i then worried that my screaming would wake up my neighbor, but then realized that he wasn't home.

i guess condo association meetings just isn't his thing.

he's kanye's dj. he's one of the best scratchers in the world. and now kanye's totally going to kick my ass off.