A salon in Downtown Brooklyn:
So, then, what is white elegance? Is it too racist if I say “spelling things correctly”?
Tag Archives: downtown brooklyn
The One in Which I Lose the Two Black Friends I Have
Filed under good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york is neat
Tagged as downtown brooklyn, good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york is neat
Tagged as downtown brooklyn, good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york is neat
This is What Being Good Gets You
Filed under all of my friends are prettier than i am, living in new york sucks so hard, restaurant ramblings
Tagged as all of my friends are prettier than i am, downtown brooklyn, living in new york sucks so hard
Tagged as all of my friends are prettier than i am, downtown brooklyn, living in new york sucks so hard
My roommate, Jack, and I stopped at the local Wendy’s recently to pick up a snack before heading home. A man sitting at the table just inside the door greeted us as we entered, but after being preyed upon countless times during my formative years here in NYC, I’ve trained myself to ignore anyone who might possibly try to pry what little money I have out of my grubby little Ohio hands. Jack, on the other hand, despite having lived here almost his entire life, somehow missed out on those teachings and shockingly turned to see what the man wanted. FOOL!!
Immediately noting the man’s homeless appearance, Jack tried to escape what was to come by innocently saying, “Let me just get my food.” But the guy had obviously been around the block once or twice and said, “Oh, god bless you, sir. Thank you, sir.” How could Jack resist a guilt trip like that?
By going out the back door–that’s how. When we spotted the alternative exit, it was like you could actually see the weight lifted off of Jack’s shoulders. He would simply grab his food, slip out the other door, and feel like he was off the hook just by virtue of inconvenience. Surely no one–even god–would expect him to walk all the way to the front of the restaurant just to hand over his money.
But as luck would have it, the guy apparently watched us work our way through the ten-minute line and then met us at the ketchup stand, where Jack was busy filling little paper cups with the manifestation of all our sins. “Thank you, sir,” he repeated. “God bless you, sir.” So of course Jack had to give him a dollar.
And wouldn’t you know it, when he got home and unpacked his nuggets, nestled at the bottom was one shaped like a heart.
Everything That’s Good in Life Should Be Mine and Mine Alone
I went apartment-hunting this weekend with my friend Jack, and this was the view from one of the units we saw:
(click here for the uncropped version, which is so much more impressive)
In the larger version, you’ll note the group of identical buildings in the lower righthand corner. That’s government housing. For poor people. Poor people with a great view.
It just ain’t right.
