Blog Post #2 Whats goin' on with this place?

"Cuuulllllllen!" Leroy hollered over the blaring NASCAR race as he walked into the unlocked room 808.
"Leroy?" Cullen said in disbelief as he peered out of his bedroom door in his underwear with . "Well, I'd recognize that voice anywhere! What in god's name are you doin' here?" He gave him a big hug with three firm pats on the back.
"Well, I knew you'd like some company in this uh.... place.. and I needed to hurry up and try and catch my big break. Paintlick just wasn't the place to do it. That bar down the street sounded like a right nice place for me. What do ya think Cullen?"
Cullen chuckled as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "Well, I don't know if I'd call it right nice but hey! You gotta start somewhere. I'd say thats an idea. Hell, if noone else'll watch ya, I will. I need somethin to do at night besides sittin in this dump! I don't know how much money I got to tip ya though, yer on ya own with that! But hey, I'll give the manager a ring and let him know yer comin to play at nights. We got pretty close since I been in there so much. I know he'd be open to mucha anything. You should be set there buddy!
They both laughed and kept talking like they did when they were kids. After he settled in and a couple hours went by, Leroy wandered out the door and into the hall. Every time he got a second to look around he took it. This place-Baltimore-this apartment-these people he saw around- were all nothing like he'd ever seen in his life. He walked to the elevator and mashed the button. He jumped when he heard the "ding" and looked to see a lit up arrow pointing upwards. The door opened and he just stared at the old woman holding a load of groceries and the boy in the elevator reading a magazine, and they stared back at him. After an awkward pause due to the two wondering why he wasn't getting on... the boy said "Going UP cowboy?" in an irritated tone.
Leroy didn't know where he was going. As the elevator let out an annoyed zzzzzzzzzzz for Leroy to hurry up and get on. He said, "Seems so! Up sounds like a right nice place to be headed. Don't wanna be goin down. Not with the big break I'm tryina catch! Ma'am you look like you've got yer hands full!" He reached and grabbed her bags. "Here ya go son. Help out yer granny!" he handed the boy half of the bag. The old woman and the boy just looked at him with confusion and disbelief. The old woman said uncomfortably, "Th-thank you sir, that sure is nice of you. I wish Alexander here were half the gentleman!"
He put the bags on their counter, shook their hands and tipped his hat. "Now yall take care, ya hear?" He wondered why they were so uncomfortable with him. He was only trying to help, that's just what you do...help folks right? He wandered down the street to the diner. All he was some sweet tea. He took off his hat and glanced around to find everyone staring at him. "How yall doin this fine afternoon?" No response. He had a seat and the waitress, named "Mandi" according to her tag asked him what he wanted. "Sweet tea and an extra bowl of lemons, thank ya ma'am." As somebody at the next table overheard and turned around and laughed- she informed that they didn't have it "up here."
Leroy sat and wondered what was going on with this place.

Leroy Pickler Apt. 808

All Leroy Pickler ever wanted was to be famous. He didn't care about anything else. He never cared much for school, and he dropped out when he was fifteen. His youth was spent playing his guitar to the country songs he wrote during the time he was supposed to be in school. He just knew that one day he'd make it big, even though nobody else except his second cousin Cullen even remotely thought he had a chance. After Cullen moved to Baltimore to get out of Paintlick, Kentucky, it suddenly dawned on Leroy that in order to make it big he'd have to get himself known by folks other than his 3-5 supporters in Paintlick. One morning he decided he was ready to get out of Paintlick for his first time, and knew the only place for him to go was to go live with Cullen in Baltimore. He was sure he wouldn't mind. He had mentioned having an empty couch in his last letter. He heard him talk about some bar, and Leroy knew it'd be a great place to start his gig. Leroy wanted to make a life for himself other than taking over the family farm and he knew if he stayed longer, he'd be sucked in. He hopped on a greyhound in his overalls with his guitar and the little money he had, and headed for Baltimore without a bone of regret in his body. He walked on the bus and put the coins he had in the slot.
"Mornin' sir!" Leroy said as he tipped his cowboy hat to the bus driver. "The name's Leroy. Leroy Pickler. I'm headed to Baltimore to see my cousin and to start up my singin career. You know, you sure are nice to be driving us folks around like this. I sure don't know how in heck I'd be gettin' all the way up there without---"
"Have a seat!" Said the aggrivated bus driver. "We won't be gettin nowhere with you wasting mine and everybody else's time like this."
"Well sorry, sir. You sure are right but there's no need to get yer boxers in a bunch. After all, you are talkin to Leroy Pickler. I'm 'bout to be famous ya know. Oh, and here's where i'ma headin." He handed the driver an old envelope from one of Cullen's letters with the return address of apt. #808 of Washington Heights in Baltimore. He took a seat somewhat confused as to why the driver not to mention everyone was looking at him so funny. He was in for an awakening. He was venturing out of the walls of the pretty and friendly little town of Paintlick. He couldn't have been more ready to get out, though. He was just ready to start on his road to stardom. When the bus stopped hours later in front of Washington Heights, Leroy simply continued to stare out the window patiently waiting for his stop.
"Here ya are Leroy!" The driver chucked. "It's your stop!"
Leroy just laughed. There was no way it was his.
"Get out."
Leroy stepped out onto the dumpy street and stared up at the worn out building. It's not exactly what he pictured. But then again, he'd never seen much of anything but Paintlick so he didn't know what to picture. He wasn't quite a fan of elevators, so he took eight flights up the cruddy stairs to #808, he was ready to say hello to his cousin he hadn't seen in years, but even more ready to hurry and find out where this bar was. He just knew he would be an instant hit. After all, who wouldn't like Leroy Pickler?