Sentimentality in the East Village

Sunday afternoon I walked around the old neighborhood, much of which is unrecognizable, leaving me, and even some of my friends who still live there, to wonder what used to be in that spot.  "I think all of this just opened last week," my friend said of a strip of shops on Avenue B.  And she wasn't completely joking.  It was a relief to find some things still remain.


This the building I used to live in.  Apartment 3D.  I had a choice of 2D and 3D and even though it meant walking up an extra flight of stairs, it seemed worth it to be able to live in 3D.  I somehow managed to live there alone for four years before adopting Brando; now the only things I can remember involve him, stuffed alongside me in our tiny one room apartment and bounding out the front door.










 This little corner park is on C and 5th, I think.  I never noticed until Brando lead me there on a walk to check out the flock of chickens which, at night, slept in the trees.  I had no idea chickens could actually fly into trees and it seemed funny that I would have learned this while living in New York City.
 6th Street and Ave. C.  For the longest time this was a junk yard where a little Frenchman lived with his guard dog, a brindle pit mix named Tigre.  When I came by with Brando, Tigre would slip under the fence while his owner shouted to be careful, because he was coming to fight.  But he wasn't really coming to fight, he was coming to play.  Eventually the man was arrested and Tigre was adopted by a woman up the street.  They cleared out the lot and more than ten years later, all that is left is a crater.

7th and C.  Former bank converted into artist lofts with standard poodles.  The married artists who lived there often split their time in a place upstate, so they alternated one black standard poodle in the country with one in the city.  Brando would play with whichever one was in town.  And then, one day, they were both in town together and Brando freaked out at the sight of the two of them, ran and hid behind a park bench, refusing to come out.

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