During the mid 50's I found a two-bedroom apartment in New York on West End Avenue. It was ground floor, $80 a month and only four blocks to the subway. The building was erected in 1920 and had apartments with 12 foot ceilings, walkin closets and bars on the windows. Perfect for me.
My landlord, Dr. LeBell, said the former renter was a Pan Am pilot and still had his belongings in the apartment; but he flew to Cape Town, Africa for long weekends, returning for only three nights a week in New York. Would I mind having this roommate for that reduced rent? Of course not.
Glenn the pilot returned several days after I moved in. He was a good looking guy in his spiffy uniform and very cordial. We talked for several hours as he chain smoked and drank booze from an expensive flask. He then changed into street clothes and went out to see a girl friend, a professional ice skater who also dated Arthur Godfrey, a very popular radio personality.
Around 2 am I was falling asleep in my bedroom when I smelled smoke. I quickly awakened and opened Glenn's door. He was on his bed fully clothes, snoring with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Also, the curtain was smoldering! I doused the flame and tried to awaken Glenn. He was deep into a drunken sleep.
The next day we had a confrontation. Glenn denied he burned the curtain, blamed me as a troublemaker and stormed out of the apartment. I was shaken and concerned. But then this could have been an isolated incident. Not so. That very night, as I tossed and turned in my bed, more smoke smell at 3 am. Same scenario in Glenn's room. But I didn't try to wake him up. Nor could I get back to sleep for several hours.
When I confronted him again he was apologetic this time, explaining he had this obsession with fire, just little ones, and was also an alcoholic. But he knew how to fly a Pan Am Clipper like a bird and was always sober at the controls. Nor would he leave the apartment, as I requested, because he liked me. And if I went to court he would deny everything and it would take months for an eviction.
To keep the peace, Glenn said he was going to fix me up with his ice skating friend, Marie, who was lovely and sexy. She had broken off with Godfrey because he demanded fellatio, when at the controls of his Piper Cub, and they once had a very hard landing.
Well, vulnerable and naive me, I invited Marie over to the apartment after dinner, when Glenn was in Africa, and she was everything Glenn said. Except for the case of gonorrhea I got.
Meantime, I called the Fire Department and asked advice for avoiding more curtain fires. The chief said he could do nothing unless it was a big one and if so, I should sound the alarm and a fire truck would respond. Then I called the Pan Am director of operations and explained me dilemma with one of their pilots. He chewed me out with an expletive, said that Glenn was one of their best and hung up. Hmmmmmmmm.
Suddenly a light bulb lit up. I would call my friend Dr. Bob Topper, a psychologist in Dallas who specialized in treating corporate executives who were showing too much anger in the office. Bob heard me out and had an immediate suggestion: "Get your landlord to issue both of you a fake eviction notice, pretend to move out, change the locks and move back in, sans the pilot.
Great idea. And Dr. LeBell went along with the plan. I showed Glenn the notice when it arrived in the mail, he suggested we both go and look for another apartment, I refused and we checked out with our belongings. I left mine with the friendly doorman, who shared my disdain for Glenn, he changed the locks and I moved back in.
A week later, the phone rang and it was Glenn. He was astonished to hear my voice and I told him I made a deal with the landlord to have the apartment for myself. Glenn was living in a hotel on Broadway and, obviously angry, told me I could go fuck myself. But I really had the last laugh, as did Dr. Topper and Dr. LeBell.
One friend of Glenn's called and I gave him his hotel number. He mentioned that Glenn was now flying for TWA. Thereafter, whenever I flew anywhere, I always looked into the cockpit. If Glenn was at the controls, I was out of there. It never happened. But I keep checking, just in case.
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