So, I settled in to the apartment, for the first time in my life, having a space that was completely my own. But if felt like a prison. The only company I had were the roaches and I wanted them dead. Back in Philadelphia I had purchased battery operated portable TV, which I had hoped to use to relieve the boredom of the bus trip, which turned out to be useless in the constantly shifting frequencies. Here, it became my only companion, giving me the company of classic old movies and the constant rant of local advertisers such as Ralph Williams, the car czar of Los Angeles, whose face dominated the night time like a vampire. The TV burned out within two days, isolating me further, and force me to head back downtown to replace it – after several days foraging the local bodega for food (canned tamales) and roach powder in my constant conflict to keep them contained. After my experience at the hotel, I knew I could not trust the lock on the apartment door to keep out...
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