Filed under: Area 51
Here is a delightful exchange a friend of mine heard in Bushwick last night.
This is funny.
At midnight I went to the deli to get some beer
because I was wrapping up a paper and felt I deserved
There were a bunch of hoody-macs all around the
deli. Tough young hispanic and black dudes hanging
around being cool. They were actually very tall
strapping young men–most of them 6 foot tall.
Which is not common in this neighborhood.
Anyway one of them was ordering a sandwich and the
others were just standing around being in the way.
I got my beer came back and they were oblivious to
being in my way. So I said, “Hey you all in line?”
Not yet, sweety, said one of them.
They let me in line.
They guy got his sandwich and looked at me. His
friends said, “Damn how many layers you need on that
And he said “I’m a growing boy. At least my meat
I was just trying with all my might to keep a
straight face because, I’m sorry, his comic timing
One of his friends goes, “dude, I didn’t need to
And he goes “it wasn’t meant for you to hear, but it
sounds like you be listening”
I am impressed by the subtlety by that last quip.
He didn’t have to say “fag” he just let it be implied.
I bet there is a story behind this melange. Not a GOOD story, but a story nonetheless…
Just in case the url of this blog (www.newyorkshitty.com) and the content herein have not made it clear already; this is not a child-friendly publication. It is a belief of the Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint that there is already WAY too much bandwidth wasted on children and their parents’ vanity. Having made my stance on this issue known, I am willing to be flexible when the mood strikes me. Hence this post.
Today I went to the Franklin Corner Store to get some tea. The only upshot of gentrification here I can think of is that my tea of choice, Ito-En green tea with jasmine, is available almost everywhere now. The Franklin Corner Store started carrying it a few months ago and I have been eternally grateful ever since. A day without fragrant green tea buzz is a day that never was for Miss Heather.
I selected a chilled bottle of delicious tea from the cooler and proceeded to the register. The store owner asked if I was ready to check out. I said “Yes” and handed him $2.00. That’s when his young son popped up from behind the counter giggling maniacally. This kid is probably seven or eight years old and today he was hyper something fierce. I can only imagine how much sugar the lad had consumed to get himself worked into this state.
He kept bobbing up and down behind the counter, playing some demented version of “Peek a Boo” with me. All the while giggling his ass off. I enjoyed this tremendously, especially after I noticed that he had a price tag affixed to his forehead.
Me (to the store owner/father): How much does he cost?
Store Owner (without missing a beat): $2.25
We both laughed and after four attempts (the kid could NOT stand still if his life depended on it) I got this pic.
It might be a good idea to move the candy out of this child’s reach. As Cindy Adams might say:
Only in Greenpoint folks, only in Greenpoint!
I can only imagine what unholy furor the previous exchange may have precipitated had it transpired in Park Slope. Any ‘nabe laden with mommies who
take make the time (and have the lack of a sense of humor needed) to bicker over the gender of a hat on Craigslist is a very scary and dangerous place in my book. I cannot state this with 100% certainty, but I’d wager one (or several) of the following scenarios would have come to pass had this child been found with a price tag on his head in Park Slope:
- A humorless dowager calls child protection services to accuse the store owner and me of human trafficking.
- Well-meaning Woman “A” (whose sole sense of purpose in life— because she does not have one— is poking her nose into other people’s business) cries racism because Latino children cost less than white children.
- Concerned Woman “B” points out the plight of trafficked women in Europe and Asia and calls Woman “A” racist and sexist.
- A debate ensues over what constitutes being ‘Latino’, as there a number of children in The Phillippines (which is in Asia) who are of Hispanic descent. This in turn…
- Starts a vitriolic exchange (on Craigslist naturally, high-minded virtue is only plausible if it can be voiced for free) as to what constitutes being “Hispanic” and what constitutes being “Latino”…
- And on.
- And on.
- And on into infinity… or when Craigslist.org crashes due to all the traffic. Whichever comes first.
- A brigade of lactating mommies start a “Suckle-In” in front of the offending store while chanting “We Will Overcome”.
- Edgy moms start putting tags on their children’s foreheads like…
- “Kaitlin, an Empowered Wom(b)yn Production: Priceless”
- “Max @ $2.25: an act of solidary for the oppressed child at the corner store”
Readers: Please shoot me an email if you think I missed anything in the above list. Outraged mommies are also encouraged to give feedback; I understand that your humvee-sized strollers (and the kids in them) would be irrevocably damaged from riding the G train.
That’s why Greenpoint kids rule and Park Slope kids drool: Greenpoint parents have a sense of humor. They let their kids act like kids.
I have always liked the Franklin Corner Store because their Cuban sandwiches are unbelievable*. Their kids are damned cool too. They can count on my repeat business for a long, long time.
*Just try their “New Mexico” or “El Mexicano” sandwich. Vegetarian Heaven in a mouthful.
As it happens, one of my best friends works at the Key Food on McGuinness Boulevard. A few weeks ago she advised me to check out Newel Street south of Greenpoint Avenue because “it can get pretty funky back there”. She went on to tell me that she saw a Starbucks cup full of dog shit there recently. I suspect I speak for all of us when I say that I am gravely disappointed that she didn’t have her camera with her when she made this discovery.
Yesterday I snooped around Newel and it is quite “funky” indeed. Dog shit is only one of the many ‘treaures’ to be found there. I saw a dead pigeon, a television set from the 70’s, numerous beer bottles, and an array of electronics (computers?) that had the living daylights smashed out of them. Right there on the street. Fascinating.
After some thought, I made my selection for “Dung of the Day”. This little guy not only has character, but he is also situated near the rear exit of the Key Food. This is where my friend takes out the garbage from the deli. I left a little something to say “Hi”.
Everyone give a big warm welcome to Poopi the Clown!
When not documenting dog shit, I set aside time to tackle some of life’s more vexatious questions. The list of questions laid before me is quite long and includes:
- Where is the goddamn remote?
- Why can’t my husband put his used panties in the dirty laundry hamper?
- What did I do to deserve this?
- Why doesn’t Sanrio make a Islamic fundamentalist Hello Kitty doll? I have seen French Hello Kitties, Brazilian Hello Kitties, even Hello Kitties dressed up like The Statue of Liberty, but alas, there was no gun-toting, Koran-quoting, burqa-wearing Hello Kitty to be found anywhere…
I decided that if such a doll didn’t exist, it should, and set forth with my 20+ years sewing experience to make this happen.
In case you are wondering: yes, she does have a gun.
I am surprised that the creations I featured in this post got any attention, much less an edit mention by The Gowanus Lounge and some nice words from Judy McGuire. Moving forward, I will showcase more of my OJAY-DE-ARTAY when the mood suits me. That said…
I woke up today in a strange mental state. My husband can attest that I have been in a decidely agitated, drinkin’, fightin’, ‘fuck authority’ kind of mood. ALL DAY. I had almost forgotten that October 1 is Pulaski Day; thankfully my ‘inner-Pole’ always manages to remind me just in time.
I will not suffer 30+ years of listening to my Polish/Lithuanian last name being butchered by mere simpletons quietly. Today is my DAY and goddammit I will celebrate!
In keeping with my “fuck you imperial tyrants” spirit, I offer this link to my online store. Be sure to read the product description, as it is rather piquant.
Here it is: my very first PoopiPoint Presentation for all to enjoy. Be sure to check out the accompanying Crap Map too!
Filed under: Dog Shit Signage
I came across this on The Gowanus Lounge late last night. Mere words cannot convey the glory, just click the link behold it for yourself. Red Hook rocks!
I found this rather choice dog shit sign on Clay Street last week. For those of you who are not proficient in Spanish, “Poopi no mas” roughly translates as “Poop no more” in English.
This would be a damned good band name. Too bad I have almost no musical ability whatsoever or I’d start a band and christen it “Poop No More”.
Otherwise, what started as a modest 4-5 slide PowerPoint presentation outlining my findings from September 20, 2006 has mushroomed into 13 slide magnum opus as of writing this post. It is quite an extraordinary piece of work. I hope to have it up this evening or tomorrow at the very latest.
Last week I saw a piece of dog shit and it has been troubling me ever since. It looked familiar, but I could not for the life of me figure out why. This morning after three cups of coffee and five minutes of Googling, this mystery got solved.
In case you are wondering, the above still is from the movie “Mothra”. Before he (?) became the moth we have grown to know and love, he was a larva. That is what you are seeing in this picture: baby Mothra.
I do not know what disturbs me more, the simple fact that I have this knowledge or that it was not acquired after smoking large amounts of grass. I was in total control of my faculties when I viewed this movie (unlike damned near everyone else I know).
Yeah, I’m a freak.