The Word On The Street: Presenting “Fuck You” Friday

It’s been a pretty busy week for yours truly. Today, however, I was able to take a day off to do a few things I wanted to do (versus stuff I have to do). I have had a lot of “have to dos” lately.

Upon disembarking the L at First Avenue in the East Village I, courtesy of LinkNYC, was presented with this self-care “tip”: call a friend.

No, no sir (or madam) this is simply not how it works here”, I thought to myself. “Telling someone to fuck off IS self-care.”

Believe you me, I want to tell quite a few folks to do just that nowadays. However, “punching up” could get me in (more) trouble. “Punching down” is not my style. “Punching laterally”, however, is fair game in my opinion.

If you need it— “it” being anything imaginable and beyond— New York City not only has it but will deliver it.

Right.
To.
Your.
Proverbial.
Fucking.
Doorstep.

We pay top dollar for this amenity. This is something outsiders do not understand. The freedom, the mental health benefits, which come with letting it all out in public. Fellow New Yorkers let you do it. We take it in turns. It’s an understood thing.

Sure enough, I was presented with such an opportunity today. Here’s how I put it on Twitter:

Then it occurred to me:

Why not roll out a compendium of “Fuck Yous” in their manifold forms as I see them?

There’s no more replenishable, locally-sourced resource as “Fuck You” in New York City.

So here we go!

First Avenue, East Village
First Avenue, East Village
Delancey Street, Lower East Side
Houston Street, Lower East Side
Manhattan Avenue, Greenpoint
Freeman Street, Greenpoint

And last, but hardly least, this contender from none other than Clay Street, Greenpoint, U.S.A. While “Fuck You” is not explicitly stated, the sentiment is there.

That’s the whole trouble. You can’t ever find a place that’s nice and peaceful, because there isn’t any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you’re not looking, somebody’ll sneak up and write “Fuck you” right under your nose. Try it sometime. I think, even, if I ever die, and they stick me in a cemetery, and I have a tombstone and all, it’ll say “Holden Caulfield” on it, and then what year I was born and what year I died, and then right under that it’ll say “Fuck you.” I’m positive, in fact.*

— J.D. Salinger, “Catcher in the Rye”

*I am totally amenable to “Fuck You” being inscribed on my tombstone. The more the merrier. A person is defined by his— or her— enemies.

The Word On The Street: Season’s Greetings From Second Avenue

Second Avenue at East 5 Street nys

As spotted today just around the corner from the premises of the 9th Precinct. Closing on a related note…

  • Free Williamsburg has seen fit to publish a handy map of the establishments in Williamsburg which will be participating in this year’s SantaCon event. One establishment offers mechanical bull rides. Drunk Santa Testosteronathon + mechanical bull rides = culling the herd.
  • E.V. Grieve has excellent coverage regarding the “back and forth” between a number of elected officials and Norman Seigel, SantaCon’s hired attorney. I encourage any/all north Brooklyn residents to give it a read as I for one found the coalition of elected officials who saw fit to sign this letter almost as interesting as the ones who did not. Inasmuch as I can tell (and by all means correct me if I am wrong), the only signee who represents north Brooklyn (READ: Greenpoint/Williamsburg) is Daniel Squadron. This of course begs a number of questions. It should be noted the Brooklyn Borough President’s name is not to be found either. Not that I find this surprising, mind you. I don’t.

New York Shitty Pay Phone Du Jour: Al Fresco Hot Desking edition

December 10, 2015 ·
Filed under: 10009, 10012, East Village, East Village Manhattan, Street Furniture 

Al fresco office nys

Pay Phone Broadway at East 13 Street nys

Taken December 10, 2015.

From The New York Shitty Photo Pool: Howloween

Oscar Madison NYC Mobile Sever Farm at your service

Taken by C Ceres Merry.

New York Shitty Photo Du Jour: The Word On The Street

The Bowery NYS

Taken September 25, 2015.

The Word On The Street: Information

August 18, 2015 ·
Filed under: 10003, East Village, East Village Manhattan, The Word On The Street 

The Age of Information nys

From East 4 Street.

The Word On The Street: Astor Place

Astor Place 8152015 nys

Taken August 15, 2015.

New York Shitty Feral Mattress Watch: Peretz Square

Peretz Square nys

Taken August 3, 2015.

The Word On The Street: Special Bond Street Edition

Honesty nys

Taken June 6, 2015.

The Word On The Street, Part II: Special MTA Edition

Polemic nys

First Avenue nys

This sullen utterance of revolt was spied and captured at the First Avenue station of the L train after a pleasant, if brief, jaunt into “the city” today. It should be noted neither of the Metrocard machines in the background were 100% functional. The one on the left was not accepting bills. After discovering the card slot seemed to have something lodged in it, I patronized the one on the right. That one was unable to give receipts. As Kurt Vonnegut would say:

So it goes.

Much has been written about the recent subway fare hike. Some of which— such as this, for example— is quite good. I thought about the previously-linked tome while paying $2.75 for ingress to the Crosstown Local. Upon entering the G train I thought about it a little more. You see, something was amiss. However, instead of merely saying something I elected to do something. We’ll get to this shortly.

To preface, I and many others find the recent subway “etiquette” posters amusing. One fellow has gone so far as to create parodies of them. Today when I entered the G I realized we are not only subsidizing all the stuff as outlined in that Medium.com polemic. We are also paying for a “public awareness” campaign that is quite frankly worthless. I had this realization when I eyed a young woman, earbuds in/iTuned out, occupying an adjacent seat with her handbag and using yet another seat as a personal ottoman/footrest.

Here’s the deal, folks: if the subway car is not crowded (and in this case it was not), I am not going to be an asshole about “bag-spreading” on seats. But the “shoes on seats” shit? No. Not just no, but HELL NO.

As if the last winter’s melange of accumulated snow/slush and the archaeological record of accumulated filth it created was not ample enough evidence of exactly what we tread upon every day while pounding the pavement, this should suffice. The subway is already a dirty enough place. Someone has a slice and/or a “cold” and swipes— such “exposure” is pretty much unavoidable. Or at least the “exposure” is understandable. There is no need to make matters worse by putting your feet on the seat.

To illustrate my point I bee-lined over to the “ottoman” in question. I did not verbally engage the person in question. I did not take a photo of her. What good would that do? Instead, I simply rolled out what I call “the butt of justice”. I made a slow motion of sitting down in said seat. Despite not acknowledging my presence in any way, shape or form, she did move them.* Does the story end here? No. It only gets better.

At the next stop (Nassau Avenue) a significantly larger number of people enter. My fellow subway patron saw fit to remove her bag so someone could sit. Good move. A couple of older (50-something and I presume Mexican American gentlemen) followed. One had a guitar, the other an accordion. They commenced to play this song:

I know “showtime” is also something the MTA is asking citizens from which to refrain. It too is ignored. Then again, I rather like mariachi music. I assessed the situation and came to the conclusion that if my fellow subway rider can see fit to occupy no less than three seats (spreading god only knows what on one of them) why shouldn’t these fellows be allowed to infringe upon “subway courtesy” as well? If we are going to establish rules/a code of conduct, it should be applicable to everyone— not just subway “entertainers”— and enforced.

Thus, I dug around my bag and found a dollar. I held it up high. What followed was precisely what I was hoping for; they came over and played music for my personal enjoyment. Much to my space pirate’s/germ spreader’s displeasure. It is pretty much impossible to “tune out” a fellow playing an accordion maybe one foot in front of you. If there is a lesson to be had here— and I suspect there are several:

“Courtesy” cuts both ways.

This was the best use of $3.75 I can recall in recent memory. Thank you, M.T.A.!

*Unlike the first fellow upon whom I tried this tactic. He actually had the temerity to complain I was sitting on his feet. I explained to him that if he did not want someone sitting on his feet, he should not place his feet on a seat. Once we got that whole “this was not an accident” presumption/assumption on his part cleared up— and that I was not going to move— he removed them.

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