I love my landlord who lives beneath us. To say that he speaks and acts exactly like Paulie from the Sopranos would be an understatement. Every word is vehemently yelled, so it took me while to realize that he didn't hate me. I told him I worked at the Theater and now he can't stop introducing me to his friends, who apparently are ALL in the arts.

Paulie: Hey Saeyrah! This is Ant-ney. Ya know he puts out a magazine? Real nice glossy paper and shit. Ya know, the good stuff.

He treats the building like his house, leisurely walking in and out of apartments (without knocking) to talk business or just say hi. With no wife, no apparent job (besides taking care of the building), and kids in college, he has a lot of free time.

Callahan and I decided to clean the apartment. I looked up from the over flowing sink and Paulie was just standing in the doorway.

Paulie: Callahan! What the fuck ah you two doin!?

Callahan: Oh you know, just bombing the place.

Paulie: Sounds like it! I can't fuckin' stand listenin' to ya big feet. This whad it's like. (Stomps around our kitchen) Ya know I like cleanin' just like yous but Jesus Christ keep it down!

Callahan: Sorry, we'll be quiet.

Long silence. Just staring at each other.

Paulie: Ah right, I'm comin back up. I got some real nice veal cutlets and chicken with some real nice bread foah yas. But don't fuckin' microwave it ya know? I cooked it in the good oil.