HELLO, and welcome to the rent-stabilized apartment of Todd Niesle. I’m Debby, a specialist in Todd Niesle, and I’m going to be your guide. Before you begin your journey through the World of Todd Niesle and His Stuff, may I ask you to reduce the volume on your Acoustiguide player to a polite level? Todd Niesle does not know that you are here. Moreover, the woman in 12-A has had a bee in her bonnet about me ever since I, Debby, while, okay, yes, a tiny bit drunk, mistook her door for Todd Niesle’s late one night and jimmied it open. But that’s another Acousti-story.
You are standing in Todd Niesle’s foyer. The faux faux-marble table on your right is attributed to Todd Niesle’s mother, circa last Christmas. It’s a fine example of a piece that I, Debby, do not like. Take a moment to look through the mail on the faux faux-marble table. There should be a lot of it, because Todd Niesle is away, skiing in Vermont with his brother. Is there a letter postmarked Milwaukee? Just curious.
Proceed through the foyer and into the living room. In this room, we can see the influence of early Michelle. Notice how Michelle seems to like making bold statements with splashes of color, especially in upholstery. You can tell by the excess of passementerie on the throw pillows what an incorrigible bitch Michelle is. If you care to pause to look at some of the art and other knickknacks, simply press the red button on your Acoustiguide. We will continue at the medicine cabinet in the bathroom off the master bedroom.
To reach the master bedroom, you must traverse the cavernous room on your left. The sole function of that room is to provide a way to the next room. It doesn’t seem fair that Todd Niesle pays only eleven hundred dollars a month for this spacious two-bedroom with a dining room, when I, Debby, happen to know that his income far exceeds the maximum allowed for a tenant in a rent-stabilized apartment. Furthermore, I, Debby, have heard Todd Niesle say on more than one occasion, “There’s tons more closet space here than I know what to do with.” And yet I, Debby, was never offered more than half a drawer, and even that humiliating amount I had to demand. The phone number for the Rent Info Hotline is 718-739-6400 (ask for Eligibility Violations).
Examine the objets in the master bedroom. Here is the famous jar of pennies and the original green shag rug from Todd Niesle’s college days. Pay close attention to the black lace brassiere in the bottom drawer of Todd Niesle’s bureau. The brassiere (36D) is not typical of the underwear of Todd Niesle. Or of mine (32B). You may be wondering what the brassiere is doing in this exhibit of the World of Todd Niesle and His Stuff. As Todd Niesle’s quondam girlfriend, I, Debby, am wondering this, too.
Now we’re in the bathroom. Actually, don’t bother looking through the medicine cabinet. Todd Niesle must have taken all of the incriminating artifacts with him to Vermont.
Our next stop is the kitchen. Open the refrigerator. The carton of milk dates from the twelfth century A.D. See the Krups espresso maker? I, Debby, gave him that. It cost $249, not including tax. You know what his gift to me, Debby, for my birthday was? A colander. You will observe that Todd Niesle’s apartment has no gift shop. Correction: You are standing in the gift shop. Take the espresso maker.
As you help yourself to the professional-grade milk frother that I, Debby, also gave to Todd Niesle, be careful not to step on the creaky floorboard, as it will alert the neighbor downstairs, who also has it in for me. She’s insane. Besides, I, Debby, wouldn’t even know how to poison a dog.
We are now in the commodious coat closet in Todd Niesle’s foyer. Our eyes are drawn immediately to the striking composition of the skis and the parka against the back wall. This is a stunning visual statement about a man who is on vacation, skiing with his brother, isn’t it? Once again, Todd Niesle proves himself to be a master at creating a scenario that elicits powerful emotions, such as hatred and disgust.
After you have scrolled through the caller-ID log on the phone in the study, looking for Todd Niesle’s brother’s number to see if Todd Niesle really went to Vermont, place a prank call to Sue Ann Kraftsow. She lives in Milwaukee and she’s in the book.
Please turn to your right. Just past the doorway, you’ll see a framed photograph. The subject of this photograph has not been identified with certainty, but Todd Niesle scholars like me, Debby, believe that it depicts Sue Ann Kraftsow.
Now go back to the gift shop and get a knife from the drawer next to the sink. When you pry the backing from the picture frame, a photograph of me, Debby, will be revealed. In the art world, this is called “pentimento.” In the real world, this is called failure to commit and to recognize undying love when you have the luck to get it.
Compare the two images. Can you discern from the vulgar contours of Sue Ann Kraftsow’s face, the lifeless pallor, and the vague gaze that she is unworthy of even as base a miscreant as Todd Niesle? She’s also fat. The second image, of me, Debby, on the other hand, shows a woman blessed with keen intelligence and generosity of spirit. It would be unscholarly of me, Debby, to point out the obvious aesthetic differences, but you, the viewer, can draw your own conclusions.
We have come to the end of our retrospective of the World of Todd Niesle and His Shit. You can return your Acoustiguide in the foyer. There is no charge for this tour, but if you enjoyed yourself, call Todd Niesle and tell him so. His number is 212-399-4838 and he can be reached at 3 A.M. He likes pizza, ten pies at a time, and Rizzo’s delivers. I, Debby, care not what you do with the key.
2005