welcome to baltimore

emily flew in last night for her peabody audition, and is now in the middle of a day which i do not envy in the least. though i bitch and moan about my job, it's better than taking a theory placement test, a music history placement test, an ear training placement test, and then auditioning for a panel of 10 judges. granted, the voice faculty at peabody is nice. if you ask some people, a little too nice; there's a point where being nice turns into helping someone devoid of vocal talent get through 4 years of conservatory study. peter says, "well, someone has to pay teachers' salaries." i say, "oh god, am i one of these people?"

so back to emily. emily lives in the lakeview district of chicago, a moderately-priced, safe, yuppie neighborhood adjacent to boystown. it's where terry and i will probably live if we move to chicago. emily is within walking distance of whole foods, a slew of restaurants, and high-class gay bars. terry and i, conversely, are within walking distance of streets that you read about in ana ditkoff's city paper column "murder ink." in fact, we're within walking distance of these neighborhoods whether you walk north, east, or west. at both of our jobs we could get there by just walking out the front door. if we were members of baltimore's bustling drug trade, we'd be in luck. as a couple of cute midwestern faggots, it's not so great.

again, back to emily. i'm really going to try to show emily a good time. keep her away from the horrible ghetto. she's spending most of her trip at waterloo apartments (the compound, as i like to call it; melrose place, to others) and peabody conservatory. tonight i'm trying to get a reservation at pazo (baltimore's newest hot spot) for small plates and wine. fancy. upscale. a we-have-good-jobs-and-good-food-and-fancy-clothes-and-wine type of place.

what's the first thing that terry does when he picks emily up from the airport? he drives her to the safeway at charles and 25th street (it's in that delicious strip of ghetto between north ave. and charles village. mayor o'malley's office calls it "station north" or "south charles village," but i call it "harlem circa 1988" or "cabrini green in the good ol' days."). while they were in the 25th st. safeway, they had the following "you know you're in baltimore when..." experience:

over the store p.a.: "if you drive a nissan sentra, your car has just been hit." (followed by rustles of "oh no he di'i'" and "ohhh, gurrrl you know he done messed up!" and twitters of laughter from the checkout girls)

five minutes later: "if you drive a toyota corolla, your car has just hit another car."

terry told me that he expected to see the toyota driver running out the door to drive away. hit and runs are as baltimore-prevalent as fried chicken wings. i say this because in the last year significant damage has been done to both terry's car and to mine by hit and run drivers--while they were parked. both drivers hit the cars and fled the scene, but both drivers have been located.

terry then takes emily across the street to paul chen's hong kong restaurant, our favorite takeout, where someone glances at her scarf and tells her, "oh. for a minute i thought you had dredlocks." welcome to baltimore, emily. it sure ain't lakeview.