Apt. 714

"Good luck!" Jimmy's mother cried as he hung up the phone.
Jimmy Lee crossed the pale yellow kitchen, walked through his living room and stopped. He liked the urban feel of his new apartment, although the apartment itself was definitely not new. Glancing at his favorite stained glass window, he exited his apartment without locking the door. Jimmy made his way to the staircase, which smelled of stale urine and food, and walked down all seven fights. Once outside, he realized that he left his wallet on his bedside table, so he reluctantly trudged back up the stairs to his apartment, #714, and happily emerged from the stairs into the fresh air once again. Jimmy didn't like elevators.
With a nervous look around his new block, Jimmy headed towards the grungy auto-shop next door. He entered the grim darkness of the shop through the open bay doors, and when his eyes adjusted, Jimmy noticed an old man sitting in a white plastic chair in the back left corner of the shop. A big black dog laying next to the man began to utter a low, guttural growl.
"Excuse me, sir, I been wonderin' whether you in need of a new mechanic," Jimmy said.
The old man did not respond.
"Mah daddy's got an aut-oh shop down in Georgia, and I been workin' there since I been 15. I'm 21 now."
Nothing.
"I sure do got a lot of experience, sir. I been learnin' bout cars since I been 5."
All of a sudden the dog leapt to it's feet, barking, snarling and spitting, straining at it's leash which was tied to the wall.
"SHUT UP ya good-fa-nothin' dog!" yelled a large elderly man with a peculiar accent Jimmy had never heard before.
"Can I help you?" the man asked Jimmy gruffly.
"Yes, sir. I came to see if you been needin' another mechanic 'round here. I been learnin' 'bout aut-ohs fer 15 years and been workin' on 'em fer 6. My daddy owns a garage down-"
"Yeah, yeah, whatevuh. So you say you're good with cars?"
"Why yes sir, if I do say so myself."
"Den if you're so good, go take a look at dat Honda right there and tell me what's wrong."
Jimmy walked over to the jacked-up car, peered inside, and noticed that the engine block was cracked. He told the man what was wrong.
"Good. So- uh- what's ya name and where ya from?"
"My name is Jimmy Lee, sir, and I'm from Blairsville, Georgia. I like to hunt and fish and listen to the Buena Vista Social Club."
"Well, Jimmy, I'm Leo and I'm from Brooklyn. Dere ain't much huntin' and fishin' 'round here, but that Buena Vista Social Club sure is somethin' else. That's all I play in this garage. Tell ya what, come back tomorrow, and if ya do good work, ya hired."
"Thank ya sir, thank ya right much!"
Jimmy walked calmly out of the shop into the bright sunlight, and as soon as he was out of sight, a big "YEEHAW!" and a jig erupted right out of his tall frame. He took the steps two at a time, not noticing the two kids writing graffiti on the wall, anxious to tell his momma the news. When he reached his landing, Jimmy sprinted down the hall to his apartment. His feet stopped five feet from his door and his pulse quickened. Slowly creeping forward, Jimmy was shocked to find the door wide open.