Grugger’s Way

My First Apartment was a narrow little dwelling, occupying just about fifteen feet of one side of a basement.

The year was 1969, I was a freshman in college, and I paid $65 per month for that place. I remember that the bedroom was at one end, defined by a rope with a “curtain.”  The kitchen was at the other end, and the rest of the place was the living area.  The “guest room” I called it.  Since I was a college student and liked to entertain, I had lots of use for the “guest room.” Just off to the side of the kitchen was the bathroom, but it was sort of an “extension” off to the side of the apartment area too.

I had to take one step up to the bathroom and another step up to the toilet bowl and shower (to enable drainage, I would guess).  At slightly above eye level the shower wall “stopped” and I could look over and see the rest of the basement, which included the utility area where tenants from the two “upstairs” apartments did laundry.  They would notice when I was showering.  It annoyed me.  As soon as one of them moved out of an “upstairs” apartment, I rented it.  I had to pay $80 a month but it was worth every extra dollar.

Beer and whiskey were the primary foods in the kitchen area.  Plus chips and a can of bean dip.  Pizza boxes would stack up in a corner, waiting to be taken out.  Not many girls spent the night; it may have been the basement apartment and it may have been me, (or the beer and whiskey) that repulsed them.  I did better with the girls after I moved upstairs.  Whether it was the new apartment or the greater experience, I never knew.

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