Some of you may recall a couple of my previous posts (Creampuff Gets Busted By The Man, Creampuff is a Peeping Tom) detailing the epic drama of the tinfoil on our bedroom windows. I am pleased to inform you that a man named James came here last week with some stuff in a bag and when he left - we had drapes! I haven’t seen natural light in our bedroom for a year and a half and it was quite a trip, let me tell you. I am also pleased to note that with the tinfoil off the windows, I have a whole other set of buildings to inspect in my capacity as the neighbourhood peeping tom. My friend Kifr lives in one of them and she likes to leave the air conditioning off and wander around in her underwear. I might give her Byle The “Straight” Drape Seller’s number . . . then again, I might not. Not just because I might catch her in her skivvys, but because it took, like, 2 months to get the darn drapes. And thank god we got them when we did, because if we’d still had the tinfoil up on our windows, there’s no way I could have shown my face at the annual general meeting of the condo corporation.
I had some great excuse to miss the AGM last year and poor Katr had to go solo. From her account, it was not the best party in town. There were the usual petty complaints ("The bike in rack 56 is dusty and in disrepair. It’s lowering the tone of the building.” or “The petunias in the east flower bed are consistently bedraggled. Can we post a security guard in that area to ensure the safety of the foliage?") but the real fight apparently erupted over the small, unheated outdoor rooftop pool and whether children in diapers should be allowed to swim in it. Obviously, some people were vehemently against it and some people - presumably the people with children - wanted to discuss it and it just went on forever and by the time Katr got home, she was livid. “It’s not like they’re just in diapers! They’re wearing plastic pants over the diapers! It’s not like you’re in the pool and some big turd floats by! Jesus Christ!”
This year, Katr had a great excuse to give the AGM a pass (I believe it went something like “I went LAST year."), so I went down there by myself, early, to score a spot on the couch. The room filled up quickly and I recognized the usual group of bitchy owners who show up for all of the open meetings - Angry Bearded Man, Receding Chin Guy and this other woman who I didn’t have funny name for before the meeting, but now I do and it’s FUBU Socks. Because in the middle of one of her racially-tinged diatribes about the “scary” people who hang out around our building, I looked down and noticed that this little old white lady is wearing FUBU socks and I was fascinated. Where did she get the FUBU socks? Her grandchildren? Winners? Where?
The meeting started out with the usual - approval of last year’s minutes, which no one had read, a review of the financial statements, which I had forgotten to bring and then we got down to the nitty gritty - window washing. A very small portion of our condo fees cover the washing of windows a couple of times a year - from the outside. But people who have balconies (something like 2 units per floor) don’t get their windows cleaned because the window cleaners won’t swing in and stand on your balcony to clean ‘em. It’s not safe. Besides, if you have a balcony, that means you can physically clean your own windows. This logic was lost on Unit 1202, Shorty McHairstyle, who was upset that her windows weren’t being cleaned. A condo board member patiently explained the difference between “accessible” and “inaccessible” windows and Shorty comes back with “Well, I’m 5′4 and I don’t have a ladder, and I had to pay $125 for someone to come in and clean my windows. Well . . . I had them do the mirrors too . . . and since I had to pay to have my own windows cleaned, I should get that money back from my condo fees.”
Pandemonium. EVERYONE starts talking at once and Shorty McHairstyle gets an earful. One guy at the back yells out “$125? I’d do it for $70!” “$50!” I should out, surprised at myself. FUBU Socks shoots me a look but everyone around me laughs. My first AGM and I’m KILLING!
After that, there was no stopping me. I grew more and more vocal, agreeing loudly with Angry Bearded Man when he complained about the key fob situation in the stairwell, clucking my tongue impatiently when FUBU Socks asked why the party room renovation wasn’t going ahead as scheduled ("Duuuh, we had to have the POOL redone, FUBU Socks! Do you want to drain the reserve fund just to spiff up this room no one uses? DO YOU, FUBU SOCKS?") and generally exchanged amused eye rolls with other owners when Receding Chin Guy demanded a more detailed breakdown of the cost of the new awning. Then, some guy at the back says “I would like to bring up the issue of people having inappropriate things in their windows. I mean, I think I saw some tinfoil on the north side of the building. I mean, come on, this isn’t [name of run-down Toronto area known for its plethora of tin-foiled windows]!” The woman next to me on the couch gasped. “Tinfoil?” she said to me, horrified. “Oh my god,” I said, “it was totally awful. I see it every day coming home from work. It’s like a TRAILER PARK up there!” FUBU Socks nodded along with me. “Awful,” she said. Our property manager, Bim, told the Tinfoil Inquirer that the issue had been dealt with and the meeting continued. And I smiled smugly, pleased that the other owners had bought my act as the same kind of finicky, upstanding, actual drapes-having property owners that they were.
When I returned to our unit afterwards, Katr was shocked by my apparent enjoyment of the meeting and has decided that henceforth, I should be in charge of attending them. I think she expected me to kick up a fuss, but I’m (not so) secretly pleased. I’m fascinated by these people who get so worked up over how drab the parking garage entrance looks. Who cares?? And WHERE did FUBU Socks get those socks?
In pursuit of these answers, I’m considering running for the board next year. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Comments:
Ok, I give. What the heck are FUBU socks?
Comment by Xara — Friday, June 17, 2005 @ 12:45 am
Okay, your post was funny enough, but Xara’s comment made me spit water all over my desk.
Vote for Roro!!
Comment by Berin — Friday, June 17, 2005 @ 2:04 am
Oh, Xara - get with the TIMES, man! A short description:
FUBU is an African-American-owned, New York-based urban sportswear empire started in 1992 by five childhood friends from Queens. (The ubiquitous “05″ on FUBU jerseys is a coded reference to these five founders.)
Its name is an acronym for “For Us, By Us,” a slogan that expressed the founders’ purpose of creating a line of popular clothing designed for African-Americans, by African-Americans. At the time of FUBU’s inauguration, though numerous clothiers were targeting black consumers for their urban wear, none of these companies was black-owned or black-run.
I like FUBU because they have a plus sized line and any company that makes velour track suits to fit my ass is okay by me. But the kind of bitchy old dame at the AGM wearing hip hop socks, possibly without her knowledge - that made my day.
Comment by Rose — Friday, June 17, 2005 @ 4:09 pm
I thank you for that clarification – I’m vaguely *aware* of FUBU, but completely ignorant of it’s origins, and therefore the weird.
However, in googling “fubu socks” – yeah, I know – I found out you can buy them at Safeway.
Comment by Xara — Friday, June 17, 2005 @ 6:04 pm
I have to know what FUBU socks are. I suspect it will raise my social status like knowing what a blog is.
Comment by Lady Marianna — Wednesday, June 29, 2005 @ 8:59 pm