Filed under: 10003, 10009, East Village, East Village Manhattan, Hooliganism, Street Justice, Subway, The Natives Are Getting Restless, The Word On The Street
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.
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Street Justice, The Word On The Street, Urban Artifact
Continuing on today’s theme (this being street justice) I present Patrick Pumpkin. I stumbled upon him while running errands this morning. In the annals of Garden Spot acts of discontentment employing edibles, this is a sullen twee whimper when, say, compared to this.* Those of you who feel so inclined to give Mr. Pumpkin a looksee be advised to keep your shutter-bugging/gawking on the downlow. The proprietress of this establishment vehemently dislikes such things. In fact, she may very well yell at you. “Deserve” has nothing to do with it.
*Which, for those of you who may be wondering, is the fruit (bad pun intended) of a disagreement between a citizen and the Department of Sanitation. He complained to them about some matter or another. I do not recall what— it is really not important. What is important is that he made our Strongest angry. Angry enough— or so he alleged— that they dumped bags of rotten tomatoes in front of his property and then wrote him a ticket for them. I miss the good ol’ days sometimes…
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Street Justice, The Word On The Street
Taken February 8, 2015.
Filed under: 10012, SoHo, SoHo Manhattan, Street Justice, The Word On The Street, Urban Artifact
As discovered while enjoying a sojourn around parts lower Manhattan today. The weather being amenable, I decided to check out a few of my favorite alleys. While not technically an alley, the incredibly petite Jersey Street does possess its own unique charm.
CASE IN POINT: 1 Jersey Street.
One has to admire the thought and execution that went into this…
and this. Well done!
Filed under: 11206, 11211, East Williamsburg, East Williamsburg Brooklyn, Street Justice, The Word On The Street, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
Taken November 7, 2014.
Filed under: 11222, Criminal Activity, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Street Justice, The Word On The Street
One has to admire the evocative word-smithing and brutal honesty employed in this missive. I can only imagine the series of events that came to pass so as to require such a policy. I am not sure I want to know. If I ever find my person in need of “work wear”, I am totally taking my business to this establishment. Well done, Zoe’s!
Filed under: 11222, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Street Justice, The Natives Are Getting Restless, The Word On The Street
The anti-Airbnb rhetoric at the Greenpoint Avenue stop of the Crosstown Local continues! I am certain this sterling operation will be pleased that as of midnight, July 26th, service will be suspended for five whole weeks. I imagine this will buy them some (more) time to hire more lobbyists and retool their laughably bad advertising campaign? Maybe they’ll even read this? I can only hope so…
Filed under: 11222, Crosstown Local, Greenpoint, Greenpoint Brooklyn, Greenpoint Magic, Street Justice, The Natives Are Getting Restless, The Word On The Street
Taken July 18, 2014.
Filed under: New York City, Queens, Street Justice, Stuff That Makes Miss Heather Happy, The Word On The Street
Taken July 9, 2014.
Filed under: 10003, Culture War, East Village, East Village Manhattan, Street Justice
Although located in the East Village, I am certain plenty of folks on this side of the East River (especially those who reside in Williamsburg and along Franklin Street) can relate to what is being attempted here: a cordon sanitaire so folks who reside in the adjacent building do not have ingress and egress precluded by patrons of the establishment next door.
Sadly, it appears to be about as effective as its namesake.
Update, June 29th: I stand corrected! A fellow named Robert writes:
Your posts are usually on the money. This post:Is totally wrong, sadly; It’s not a resident line, or anything; Abraço opened up a little 2nd market store, roughly 6 doors down: the pink line is in fact a number of arrows leading their customers down the street.(I was there yesterday)