OneManOneCity - Musings from the Center of the Universe

OneManOneCity - Musings from the Center of the Universe

Archive for the ‘Only in New York City’ Category

There’s a crackhead hooting in front of my apartment window

Tuesday, July 28th, 2009

Literally, he’s  just wandering around yelling “woooo . . . . . woooooooooo . . . woo . . . wooooo” at the top of his lungs.  He’s been here for about 20 minutes and he doesn’t seem to be tiring or going anywhere (although i don’t imagine he has a packed schedule of activities that he needs to get to.  I’m guessing he doesn’t have to hurry home to prep for his guest lecture at Columbia tomorrow).  I don’t think he’s yelling at anybody in particular, I think he just wants to yell. It is quite humid out tonight. . . maybe he’s woo-ing at the humidity. I think I’ll just wait him out. Lowering the front shade . . .

Are you supposed to call the cops in this situation? Should I call 911 or is that overkill? Is there a better number for non-emergency, but still annoying situations? Although this sounds really cowardly, I think it’s better to just let it go. No need to make an enemy. Especially a slightly deranged enemy who clearly has time on his hands.

Ok . . . situation averted. An FDNY ambulance (I was unaware that the Fire Department had ambulances, but whatever) pulled up and shoo’d him away. Literally. They didn’t even get out of the ambulance, they just shined a light on him, and spoke to him over the radio/megaphone thing. . .”Move along, sir, you can’t stay here”. The crackhead rambled and yelled incoherently for about 5 minutes, but the paramedics didn’t move or respond.  Then the crackhead, who was obviously defeated in the case of nonsensical yammering vs. silence, rode away on a bmx bike, swerving back and forth across the street, all while giving the paramedics the finger.

Classy.

Then what exactly is your job then?

Tuesday, April 21st, 2009

One of the great things about moving to a new apartment is learning the quirks of the neighborhood.  I had a conversation with my mail lady that went something like this:

Mail Lady: “Since you don’t have your names on your mailbox, I usually just put all the mail in your neighbor’s box.”

Me: “There’s a large number 1 on our mailbox, why don’t you put all the mail marked ‘Apt. 1′ in our mailbox”.

Mail Lady: “It’s not my job to sort the mail”.

Me: “I’m pretty sure it is.”

Mail Lady: “It’s not.”

Damn. I clearly lost that battle of wits. And now the mail lady is probably spitting on my mail. So, moral of the story, if you mail me something, I’m probably getting it late  (and possibly, slightly wet).

That crashing sound you hear - it’s rents dropping all over the city

Monday, January 12th, 2009

I started my annual search for a new apartment (I’ve looked the last two years and ended up staying in the safe, rent-stabilized, glorified-dorm room that is my apartment), by viewing three different 2 BR’s in the East Village / Lower East Side area, and let me tell you, it’s a good time to rent. The struggling economy has lowered rents by $500 - $800 per month. All three apartments we saw were no fee, and two of them offered “one month’s free rent” (What?, I practically had to beg people to show me an apartment 12 months ago, and now they’re giving away free rent). Landlords are absolutely TERRIFIED about the economy. The broker practically offered me a free reach-around if I would just rent an apartment from him (no thanks sir, I’m holding out for a better offer).

So the moral of the story is, if you have a stable job and some money in the bank, it might be a good time to upgrade your digs.  I plan to buy a monocle and top hat and act extremely condescending to all the brokers/landlords I meet (”Dance for me, peasants, it amuses me). Because apparently I’m the only person left in the city who has a job.

The only thing left to decide is whether it’s time to leave Manhattan (Nooooo!!!) and make the jump to Brooklyn for more space, or take advantage of the bad economy and get a slightly smaller, livable space in the city. The places we looked at tonight weren’t huge, but they were substantially bigger than places in that price range last year. The search continues . . .

I saw a guy smoking crack in a subway station today.

Sunday, December 28th, 2008

I’m sure there are some people who might think this is a regular sighting for us living in the liberal/sodomite/crackden that is New York City, but this is the first person I’ve ever seen someone smoking crack in person (Of course, I have seen it in movies/TV and home videos of Amy Winehouse).

The guy was standing on the end of the subway platform, hiding behind a garbage container, sparking away on his crack pipe (I’m assuming it was crack, because I was pretty close to him at first, and it didn’t smell like marijuana.  It could have been something like PCP or some other random drug, but i didn’t stop to ask him, so we’re sticking with the crack assumption). Unfortunately, although he thought he had chosen an inconspicuous hiding place, he chose to “hide” during rush hour on the end of the platform where the train enters.  So there were about 50 people standing on the platform facing his direction (and the direction of the incoming train), watching this guy smoke crack.  Lesson:  Crackheads are terrible at hide ‘n’ seek.

I should also note, he was also rotating the crackpipe with a beer and a cigarette, since it’s always best to attack sobriety from all angles.