In the area surrounding the house, hair salons and smoke shops outnumber every other kind of store by a 2 to 1 ratio.

There is an elementary school down the street. I wonder if I'll be voting there.

The laundry room has hookups for both gas and electric. The oven and broiler are avocado green, with chrome trim.

The babelfish translation of El Escorial, the street on which the house resides, is The Dump. El Escorial also happens to be a famous place in Spain that is not, I'm led to believe, a dump.

There is no mailbox, there is a mail slot. When coming home from work, I will find my mail laying in a small pile beside the door. I think that is neat. I wonder if bees can get inside through a mail slot.