and it goes a li’l something like this:

Before I lived in my current apartment, I subletted a room in a tiny apartment in Williamsburg where i paid too much money and shared space with young activists who may or may not have liked me. Things got a little complicated shortly after i moved in; i found out the girl we were subletting from was making money off me and the other roomates/subletters by charging us more than what she was paying for rent. she was sneaky. she also left all of her shit in the middle of the kitchen/living/family room so there was little room anywhere. she also never fixed the satellite tv and tivo. other than the tivo, the main reason i moved in was the fact that i did not have to put a fill month’s rent for deposit. so i took it.

time went on and things got complicated between us (the tenants), her (the girl who we were subletting from and who was on the lease), and the new landlords. shit went down and to make a long story short we were forced to move out of the apartment in mid-feb. i stayed until the end of february and never paid rent for those last two weeks. but thats another story. during the move process, this girl (we’ll call her Jen because thats her name) slowly began moving all her crap out of the apartment. she had lived there for years with many roomates, all of whom left behind crap. it was a mess. she was trying to sell the junk off craigslist but no one was stupid enough to buy it. it was just another way for her to rip people off. anyway, as the days went by and no one was selling her crap, she said to me “just take whatever you want”. so i did. one of the things i wanted was a keyboard and stand that she had left. i took it and gave it to my bandmate freddie for him to work on his keyboard skills. it was a pretty decent keyboard too. another thing i took was a camcorder tape that had a fat man and a skinny girl having sex while the girl wore a strap on. it was someones home movie that they had left in the camcorder when they moved out who knows when. it was an interesting tape even though it scarred me for life. but i digress…

a couple days later Jen called me. “uh, hari did you see my keyboard?” I told her sure, i had it. she said she wanted it back. i said fine. i never got the keyboard back from freddie because, frankly, it was a pain in the ass to do that without a car. i kept telling her i’d leave her the keyboard when i moved out, but i didnt. after i moved out, she began to call me at my new place asking for the keyboard, which I had no problem returning to her. however, she wanted me to get on the bus with her keyboard and ride it 30 minutes to give it to her. naturally i wasnt going to do this because i’m not a sucker. she told me to take what i wanted and i did; now that she wanted it back she was going to have to come get it. she continued calling and i just stopped answering her voicemails and answering the phone when she called. she called for a week straight, sometimes at 8am, sometimes at 11pm. i didnt answer. i didnt have the time to go deliver her the keyboard, and frankly, she was ripping me off with rent so i did not feel i owed her anything. she stopped calling. all was well. freddie was improving his keyboarding which is good for the band.

a few weeks later we had our show at Arlene’s Grocery in the Lower East Side. It was a good show i guess, we had a “good time”. we finished our set and walked out to the bar to get a drink. I hear a girl call my name. I turn around and am facing Jen. She tracked me down. I pretend to be happy to see her and ask how she’s doing.

“where’s my keyboard ?” she asks. oh…the keyboard. well, freddie’s got it. “why didn’t you return any of my messages?” oh,, you left me messages?? i didn’t get any of them. Did you call my new number? I got a new number, its all messed up. This answer of course made no sense because she called my phone and still got my voice speaking the same voice mail message. i didn’t know what to say. she knew i was lying. i called freddie over and he gave her his phone number and address. we exchanged small talk. it was awkward. it was one of the most awkward experiences ive ever had. she did not pay to see us play or watch the show, she just sat outside at the bar and waited through our whole set for me to come outside.

the thing that bugs me to this day is how she found me. how did she know that my band was playing? I never told her or my roomates the name of my band. I never gave her any of the music, im not even sure i mentioned to her that i was in a band. if you google my first and last name, there is nothing that mentions the band. how the hell did she find me? I was too nervous to ask. i was in shock. she came and picked up the keyboard from freddie a few days later. to this day i have no idea how she found me.

%d bloggers like this: