KillerWhalePettingZoo

I haven’t had time to buy curtains for my new apartment. Pretty sure that’s a direct correlation to the neighbors across the alleyway watching less and less TV at night. Sure I prance around naked and models writhe around on the floor, but I actually need curtains because winter is here and I’m trying to block out the depressing site of all the dying vegetation.
My roommate lent me a blanket his grandma knit; she knits one for him every Christmas. It’s pretty evident I have few morals, but there’s just something about picturing a little old granny knitting away so some asshole like me can romp around with a girl on a hand-stitched heirloom. It clouded my conscience so I stashed it in the closet and vowed to freeze every night before racking up some bad granny karma. Curtains or not I’m still somewhat curious as to what that little glowing red light coming from across the alleyway is…

If I’m too lazy to buy curtains, I’m sure as hell not cooking dinner. Local businesses deliver anything and everything you can think of by strapping it to some poor bastard’s back and sending him off via rusty moped or janky bicycle. Chinese food, Thai cuisine, clean folded laundry and even groceries will show up at your front door.

The online grocery store not only sells vegetables, meats, and other pantry items, we discovered they deliver beer. They’ll even carry the cases up three flights of stairs to our apartment door. Our last order they sent some spray-painted U-Haul truck and 3 Spanish bros with weightlifting gloves and 9 moving boxes yelling incomprehensible profanities and denting the hallway plaster with 3 cases of Sam Adams. Typical company policy is to not accept gratuity, or check IDs apparently.

The Chinese restaurant is ½ block away from our apartment, yet we still order delivery. We’re not that lazy, I swear. It’s a science experiment. We’ll place two orders simultaneously, something similar like Shrimp Lo Mein and Pad Thai; noodle dishes that should take equal cooking time in any Asian country.
I think the Thai dude is 3 blocks away, but he has a shitty moped so it all evens out. Whoever gets to the top of the building first will get the other guy’s tip. They don’t even realize they’re in a race, but usually one comes downstairs with a huge grin while the other goes back to his respective restaurant really confused and pissed off. We probably seem bipolar in our tipping habits, but I think Chinese bro is getting the clue. From the time the food hits the wok, to the time he’s panting at my doorstep, his record is just under 7.5 minutes. He even throws in an extra fortune cookie because he knows I have a sweet tooth. Now that’s fucking service.