Push Me, Pullman

We got to the apartment complex around two. We both pulled in side by side and parked as close to the office as was available. After putting the van in park, unbuckling my seat belt, and leaning the seat back to stretch I noticed Amanda motioning towards the #26 on the door of the apartment next to the office. “Well, at least that’s one less neighbor”, I thought. In the past we’ve had our share of annoying neighbors. There was the obese upstairs woman who yelled and stomped at her kids then decided to move out in the middle of the night being none too quiet about it. Then there was laying in bed trying to go to sleep and hearing the mentally challenged gentleman splashing in the tub and letting out yelps reminiscent of Sloth from “The Goonies”.

The apartment manager, Agne, is a scatterbrained mess. She hadn’t gotten us our designated parking spot, our extra key, our mail key, or blinds for our apartment. The apartment was white; white vinyl, white walls, off-white carpeting. It’s a grand example of 70’s architecture, from the flowery countertops to the graveled front facing of the building. The front windows face our parking lot, then the street, then a green hill that has a road that winds up it to another apartment complex that is out of site. The back windows is below the back parking lot, so there is 6’ x 2’ foot opening in the ground that allows for a little light and a few views of people’s asses as they walk passed and eclipse the rooms light so that you instinctively glance upward.

We, well mainly Amanda, unloaded her car so that we could go for a drive. A few blocks from our apartment is a Blockbuster, Barnes & Noble, IGA, McDonalds, Burger King, and Jack In The Box. Then there is a stretch of almost nothing, a few local eateries with “Go Cougs” written on them, a trashy lingerie store, and a glass blower. Then you reach Main Street leading through the approximately 6 blocks that consist of downtown Pullman. There’s three sports bars, two hair and nail salons, an ice cream parlor, two old theater houses, and five restaurants. There’s no Wal-Mart, but there is a Shop-Ko. The University is a short distance from our apartment. The football stadium seemed like a high school’s in comparison to Mizzou’s. After circling the town in all of 10 minutes we decided to get something to eat at a place called Rancho Viejo before returning to our apartment for the long process of unpacking.