Hmm. Whatcha guys think?
A bunch of white kids moved into the apartment below mine last month. There was something I didn’t like about them right away, something I couldn’t figure out, which I unearthed tonight as they threw a raging party. The narrow hallways in my building smell like weed, their friends keep paging my apartment by accident, there are people shouting on my stoop after one in the morning.
It’s obvious: These kids have no respect for anyone but themselves. They don’t have jobs, they run a “recording studio” out of the basement. They unsheathed dad’s credit card like a shining silver sword and butted out the black and Hispanic families that live here, a full hour outside Manhattan by train.
I was uncomfortable being on the front line of gentrification when I moved out here a year ago, realizing as I lugged my bed halfway up the…
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