Life In Loftville
Got a call from a friend in what some categorize as a
real loft — that would be in an older building that was
converted, not one of the new spiffy monuments built from
the ground up.
“So the new guy on the ground floor rented out his space for
a shoot.
“Then the noisy, rude crew found their way to the roof and set up
shop.
“A tenant complained to the owner, who rushes over, we think to
restore the peace and quash this activity forbidden by our leases.
“And what does she do? Says if you’re using my building, you
pay me.”
Was it awful, I ask.
“They’re clunking around and shouting right over my head, so I
go up and they’re using my chaises and my tables and my umbrellas
and my potted plants for a shot.”
Uh-oh. This is an activist sort of guy that’s not shy about having
a tantrum for the cause, whatever it is.
What happened, says I, waiting for the outburst.
“So I say if you’re using my furniture, you’re paying me.
Which they did. Then I went across the street and worked in the bar
all afternoon.”
Tags: Who needs Airbnb to pay the rent when we have Hollywood?
We’re hip and we’re cool and we’re snobs: Real lofts versus fake lofts.
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