A message from your pothead neighbor

By Anonymous NYC Co-op Dweller  | November 16, 2010 - 6:24AM

So, you suspect I’m a pothead.

There’s the incense-like smell, the violent hacking sounds you hear through the walls, the visits from ‘friends’ with backpacks who stay for a leisurely two minutes, and a cable box permanently tuned to The Simpsons and Family Guy.

Before you get all irate and start emailing the managing agent about the air quality, might I suggest you chill out and consider this: A pothead is likely to be the best neighbor you’ll ever have.

1. We aren’t complainers Unlike the old lady that’s lived in the building for twenty years and who complains about seemingly everything—from your improperly stored trash to the smoke from your weekend barbecues —potheads aren’t likely to make a fuss about any of your habits. That’s because while we know that pot is pretty much socially acceptable these days, it’s still illegal and criticizing you for the Yemeni spice festival you throw once a month isn’t worth exposing the trump card that we all know—or at least are paranoid—that you have on us.

2. We are like the old lady We both know a lot about the building’s business because we potheads are at home—often. And being around a lot means we’re also taking stock of the comings and goings of the building and even sometimes in a stoned haze survey the building’s structural idiosyncrasies. Did you hear that? It sounded like a drip. Hmmm, I don’t think that crack has always been there. . . consider us your Neighborhood Watch.

3. We are quiet Aside from the TV being on, and the coughing, we’re usually not making much noise. The pot makes us calm and pensive, and because of this, we’re really not going to be moving about much. Usually, we are reading or writing, or at our most active, baking—which isn’t so bad, right? Who minds smelling fresh baked cookies once in a while? (Feel free to knock and ask for some by the way; we’d love to share! And no, there’s nothing in them except love.) Compare that lifestyle to the rich cokehead who works twelve-hour days at the bank, but who, at two in the morning on weekends, cranks up Kings of Leon to impress the model he’s managed to score from the club

4. We’ll be there Everybody has one of those days: You’re so stressed out, your mind is all jumbled, and you wish you had something to relax you. This is where we come in. Potheads are generous people and we do love company of the domestic and laid-back type. Sure, it will be awkward at first, but once the air is cleared away and you’ve shared in the joy, a bridge will have been crossed and we’ll both learn to be more comfortable living next door to one another.

So the next time you hear that funny noise, see that funny looking guy, or smell that funny smell, just remember that aside from possibly intrusive fragrance, you’re living next door to the ideal New York neighbor, if you don’t count the dead ones. (And anyway, that dead guy will start smelling pretty bad himself sooner or later.)

P.S.- I was totally high when I wrote this.

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