Irritations, Roommates, and Bombs

by Jerry Waxman

I never wanted a roommate, not of the same gender at any rate. It’s a small apartment with one bedroom and one living room. I scored a desk a week or so ago, and I was just getting my homelife a little better organized when suddenly I got a roommate.

I first met Dave in December when he showed me where he was living. It was a room on the underside of somebody’s house, and it was danky. He said it had recently been flooded, and the smell of damp or rotting carpets was pervasive.

Recently he took me to his pad again. And the smell was overwhelming. At that time I told him that he needed to forego all projects – particularly the ones he wanted to involve me in – and get out of his house. Turns out he decided to move into mine.

If he took care of himself, and cleaned up after himself, it might not be such a nuisance. I guess that about sums it up. I moved the desk into the bedroom, so I can live here in the small room. His junk is in piles in the living room. I’ve taught him how to use earphones with his computer so he can listen to opera all day — and all night — while he works.

The biggest irritant in Sderot is the sewage. The town and all its underground facilities were initially built for only a few thousand people. Now there are close to 20,000 inhabitants. So the city pipes are overworked.

My block has been particularly bad recently. When the breeze goes the wrong way, the air in my apartment is about as foul as Dave’s old place. Not healthy.

The other night, the breeze was blowing the wrong way, while at the same time there was an overly traditional bride-dunking party going on at the mikve. This one had not only the warbling and Moroccan cheers, but also a half dozen cars with amplified car horns blasting away. Oblivious to all, the karaoke guy was singing away as off-tune as anyone had ever heard him.

On top of all the noise and pungence, Dave tried to tell me some stories of his exploits. Dave is an accomplished writer, unfortunately not in the short-story category. Each story must have a long drawn out introduction, including side stories completely unrelated to the main plot, and a long drawn out middle with unnecessary adjectives, adverbs, and adhominems to draw it out longer.

I could strain to hear long stories no longer – the horn party for the bride dunking plus the karaoke guy plus the wayward breeze spreading a sickening stench all got the better of me and I succumbed — only to awaken hours later with thoughts of improving myself as quickly as possible.

I had to deal with a government office – and fortunately that went quickly, though I’ll have no idea if their fowl-up was taken care of for another couple weeks. Then I gave job pursuit immediate and energetic attention.

Tie-clad and combed-haired, I went straight to a nearby school, straight up the steps, and straight to the main offices. The only person working there told me the director and main secretary were not there that day — and further gave me the impression that it was a rare day when they were there. Minor irritation.

I went to the employment office. Nothing was showing up, as usual, until suddenly an opening caught the counselor’s eye. She called a school located about an hour from Sderot, and they asked to see my resume – which the counselor faxed to them. They are to call me if they want me to come to an interview. They haven’t called – and I think it’s because nobody at the school knows me. Another minor irritation.

Back at home, I began to adjust to new living arrangements. Big irritation. While settled and resigned to the fact that I had not completely changed my life today, I and the rest of Sderot got a reminder of why we are here. “Tzeva Adom, Tzeva Adom” rang out all up and down the neighborhoods. A volley of rockets may be coming our way.

After so many weeks of quiet, why are they starting now? Do they think that we’re more vulnerable now because of the heat, and the stench from the sewage, and the lack of efficiency in our government offices, and the lack of responsibility in our schools, and the lack of jobs, and the noise from bride-dunking parties couples with the nasal refrains of the karaoke guy? Do they think we’re more prone to leave because of obnoxious roommates?

Maybe we are. But I haven’t seen anyone leave Sderot today.

Tagged with: bombs • irritations • roommate • roommates • tzeva adom

Filed under: About Israel • About Sderot

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