My Street

My street is a quiet one. Take a left on King going north west on Burnside. Each side of the street is lined with cars that never move. They are always parked there. There is no need to drive in this location, but for some reason the residents of this street all own vehicles. On the left is the Volvo dealership, actually the mechanic's side, the side where they smoke. The right hand side there is a vacant retail space and next to it a hair salon. The hair salon is called Frankie Page, located on the bottom floor of a six story building my friend Stephanie lives in. This side and only this block is lined with substantial trees that are always strewn with lights. My street is nicely paved, it think due to the little traffic we get. I always find it amazing how quiet my street is being right off of the main vein of the city. There is an odd house next to the Volvo dealership across from their alley. I can never tell if the giant old house is broken up into apartments or if it is one family living there. They have two dogs that never go inside. The lab barks incessantly. Across King from the big house are the Park Avenue Suites, $100 a night they also have a motel next door to the big house, The Washington Park Inn, $40 a night. This business brings in the most interesting clientele. The latter is a big of a slum. I have watched parties, drug busts and even a horror movie being filmed there, from my window in my apartment. My building, the tallest building on the street, the King Tower is located next door to the nicer hotel and across the street from the no-tell motel. Mine is a 12 story pink art deco inspired building. From the King Tower up are more Victorian style houses. The houses are large and have been broken up into office spaces and residential units. The trees around these houses are also enormous. Because of the tree's roots the sidewalk gets a little tricky. Each slab is a different height than the others and are angled every which way as sidewalks often do to compensate for the tree's roots. There is dog shit everywhere. This is the part of the street where you really have to watch your step, you could trip or mess up your shoes. There is an awful intersection the farther you go up the hill. It makes an S curve and there is no real way to see if traffic is coming, you have to run for it if you are a pedestrian or put the pedal to the metal if you are a motorist in order to cross safely. Once you pass the dangerous intersection the houses become even larger and more estate like. The landscaping is finely manicured and the sidewalks impeccably clean. There is a design studio, I think for interior design, but I'm not quite sure. The houses on these final two blocks are beautiful but you never see who lives in them, only the landscapers and the hired help coming and going on their daily errands.