I live on Park Avenue next to a Brothel

Park avenue street signNew York living in its finest.  It was almost perfect…. Almost.  Park Avenue apartment with a wonderful pedigree. Duplex… three bedrooms, two balconies, a fireplace and two great roommates. I could walk to work. I was surrounded by great restaurants, bars and coffee shops. Then my fairy tale romance with my perfect apartment fizzled.   We had new neighbors. They seemed nice enough to begin with. But then things got weird.   Men constantly coming in and out of the front door at all hours of the day and night.  In the middle of the night random dudes buzzing my apartment,  I assume mistaking the apartment numbers.   One day, I came home in the middle of the day to retrieve my left behind cell when I got in the elevator with one of the randoms. He was very handsome and polite; I was feeling much better about the situation until he took out his wedding ring from his pocket and put it back on. I almost tossed my cookies right then.

That very night I made a point to visit my Super,  Siam. He told me he and his wife were concerned with the high traffic coming in and out of the building. We discussed conspiracy theories.  I told him mine… I was living across the hallway from a brothel!! In my mind there was no other possible explanation… I only saw men visiting the apartment and it was always one lady answering the door. And by answering… I mean barely opening it an inch… and practically yanking the guys in. I slept better that night, I knew whatever scandalous things were happening in my building would soon end.

Unfortunately, a couple of weeks passed, my buzzer still buzzed late at night and men still came in and out of the building. That’s when the situation reached a boiling point.   I rode up in the elevator with,  for lack of a better term,  one of the Johns.   My neighbors, however,  did not realize I was in the elevator.  I,  along with the John.  was greeted at the door by several lingerie clad ladies. Um… Yeah. The John was immediately rushed in and I was left to pick up my jaw from the floor. I may be from Arizona but I have seen enough episodes of Law and Order to know this was not an ideal living situation. I got directly back in the elevator and went to see Siam. It was that very night that Siam with some assistance from the folks from NYPD made our neighbors leave. It wasn’t too long after that I said goodbye to Park Avenue. However, the call girl jokes remain a mainstay in my office.

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