Good Ol' McKibs

I just read the NY Times article about my old home, 248 McKibben Street. It's become quite notorious as of late, with Gawker being especially obsessed with it. A few of the memories, good and bad:

• Hearing a gunshot outside of my window at 2am
• My roommate getting stuck in the freight elevator and the super telling him he couldn't come help him (Thank god for the NYFD)
• Hearing all types of sex noises due to the fact our walls didn't reach the ceilings
• Fun-filled barbecues on the roof
• My roommate's self-built treehouse-like room which was only tall enough for a hobbit
• Another roommate's across-the-hall romance
• Fuckin' bands playing at 3am
• Mice, cockroaches and possibly bedbugs or bird mites, we never really found out which
• A huge party on the roof with tons of people dancing to "Since U Been Gone"
• Grabbing late-night Jamaican beef patties from the bodega's bullet-proof service window
• Getting sprayed by an open fire hydrant
• That crazy horseshoe crab that hung above the apartment down the hall
• Getting coffee at Potion
• People with very interesting career aspirations that may or may never be realized
• Sparks
• Short walks to Asterisk, the totally bizarre and fun semi-legal music venue
• Getting bombarded by snowballs by my roommates as they jumped out from behind a car

Overall, it was like going back in time and living in the dorms again. Let me be clear: I would never, ever move back there again. It's loud, living conditions are shitty and the building's management is a pain in the ass. But I did have some really good times and I don't regret the year I spent there at all. Also, it's way better than that other building, 255.

Young Artists Find a Private Space, Only Without the Privacy [NY Times]