The sun is just starting to appear over the Gray’s Block building, like a little wave hello from Mother Nature. I walk into the kitchen as brightness shines through the old ivy-covered windows, splattering rays across my freckled face.
The room feels warm for a morning in March. I’m not exactly sure how to use the old thermostat in my apartment since I’ve only lived here for a week. I push the tiny brown buttons until I hear the air kick on.
I notice screams coming from West 9th Street. A girl is skipping and yelling “top o’ the mornin’ to ya” in a bad Irish accent. She has on a shamrock headband and tall white and green tube socks.
My friends will be here soon. I’m sure they will be wearing similar St. Patrick’s Day garb; green top hats, plastic shamrock necklaces, and tank tops with “Kiss Me I’m Irish” bedazzled across the front.
I start to load the glass table with food. I place everything bagels in a woven basket, scoop globs of cream cheese in tiny glass custard cups, and stack turkey and cheese pinwheel sandwiches on a white ceramic platter. I arrange a rainbow of sliced strawberries, blueberries, and oranges on a wooden cutting board.
A pot of Phoenix coffee is brewing. I grab a mug and add a generous amount of Baileys into the dark puddle of warm chocolate, nutty-flavored liquid.
“Knock, knock!” screams Jenny, as she lets herself into the open apartment.
“This place is insane! I can’t believe you found this apartment!” Jenny says as she slides into the boxy navy blue velvet chair.
“Thanks for coming!” I shout as I finish taping green streamers on the white brick wall.
All of my friends start filing through the door. They bring in bottles of Jameson, cases of White Claw, and coolers filled with green Jell-O shots.
My apartment is packed. There are probably forty people here. I don’t know many of them. I know my friend Jenny and can recognize some of her friends, but most of the room looks like a pool of strangers dressed in green and white t-shirts with sparkly shamrock tattoos on their cheeks.
A guy carrying a huge black speaker over his shoulder walks in.
“Hey, I live a floor above you and thought I’d stop by. Is it cool if I plug in my speaker?” he says.
“Sure,” I say as I take a sip of my Irish coffee.
He plugs in his speaker and “The Middle” by Zedd instantly starts playing. The entire apartment is singing and jumping up and down like we’re in the center of a mosh pit at a music festival.
As we start to stumble out of the apartment to hit the bars and see the aftermath of the St. Patrick’s Day parade, I take a step back and pause. I look at the mess of people in my Warehouse apartment.
I can’t believe I live here. This is my first apartment without a roommate. This is my home. I feel part of a community. I feel like a Clevelander.
Erin Radigan is a marketing professional living in Cleveland, Ohio. In her free time, she enjoys spending time with family, writing and practicing yoga.
216-623-2800
information@cpl.org
Cleveland Public Library
325 Superior Ave.
Cleveland, OH 44114
Literary Cleveland is a nonprofit organization and creative writing center that empowers people to explore other voices and discover their own. Through an expanding roster of multi-level classes, workshops and events, Literary Cleveland assists writers and readers at all stages of development, promotes new and existing literature of the highest quality, and advances Northeast Ohio as a vital center of diverse voices and visions.
Founded in 1869, Cleveland Public Library serves the residents of Cleveland through its network of 27 neighborhood branches, the Main Library downtown, Public Administration Library at City Hall, homebound delivery services, and mobile services to daycare and senior centers. From a collection of 10.5 million items, the Library lends over 5 million items a year to its 330,000 registered borrowers and to 43 other CLEVNET-member libraries in 12 counties across Northeast Ohio. Cleveland Public Library is home to the Ohio Center for the Book and the Ohio Library for the Blind and Physically Disabled, serving all 88 counties in the state of Ohio. For more information, visit cpl.org.