The search for Jimmy Hoffa appears to have moved into our downstairs: I've been hearing Big-Honking-Tools noises for a few days, and the last time I went out the back door, the workmen had left a door that had formerly led into a locked room housing the casualties of the building's various "renovation" phases wide open, revealing two neat files of newly dug body-sized pits in the cement floor. They're down there again right now, making an inappropriate racket for 8 AM and generating some truly odd pulverized-concrete stinks that are drifting right up into our apartment. 8 more days to Closing... {sigh}
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