Friday, June 29, 2007

To the Tourists on the NYC Sightseeing Downtown Loop

A few answers to your questions:

-Yes, I was laying out on a balcony in soho in a white bikini today.

-No, I don't have a real job.

Midtown Manhattan

I have a friend who is a lawyer who lives in midtown, and sometimes I make the pilgrimage uptown to the land above 23rd street to see how the other half lives. I love my friend's apartment in spite of its address. She lives with her boyfriend, who shares my taste for JWblack, and they have cradles that allow you to swing the bottle into the pour position without lifting it up. Last night after we quickly exhausted the midtown bar scene, we went home and played scrabble. None of us were spelling words with more than three letters at that point, except for my friend Jen, but she's a lawyer so she doesn't count.

I don't understand the midtown bar scene. If I worked in midtown, or, Mother Theresa forbid, lived in midtown, I would pay the cab fare to socialize below 14th street. First, we went to a place called

Public House:

To be fair, I was the youngest person in Bar? Lounge? House. I felt like Public House should have been renamed Circus of Complete Losers House because that's what it was. The menu options were similar to TGIFridays or Red Lobster. I'm not a food snob, I'll eat at Fridays, but Public House was charging about double. The highlight of my dinner was when the clock struck nine and the lights suddenly lowered and hip hop started bumping. To quote one of the best movies of all time, As if. At that point people started walking around like they were all important and perhaps even famous. All the little Morgan Stanleys were like "YEAH I SCORED A BIG STOCK" and all the little interior designer/HRho's were like "YEAH I USED TO MODEL WHEN I WAS 7." We had to leave because I was so depressed.

and that's all I have to say about midtown.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Someone Else's Story...

Idan and Lorraine Idarter. We're actually pretty, I swear.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Croiky, Crocodile Lounge blows.

Crocodile Lounge…

I like alcohol and I like free food, but I don’t like Crocodile Lounge. When this establishment is busy, obtaining the free pizza is an enormous pain in the ass. The whole “free pizza” idea is not original. If you’re from Strong Island, you might think that Crocodile Lounge has stumbled on a totally novel concept, but there are a few cool bars in Brooklyn that have free pizza, and they provide that free pizza in a way cooler way.
Crocodile Lounge seems like a circus of fun from the outside – not only do they advertise the pizza but they also advertise SKEEBALL. I love skeeball! Skeeball reminds me of when my drunk grandfather used to take me and my brother to arcades and give us rolls of quarters while he left to buy more mini bottles of vodka. My dreams of skeeball bliss were dashed when I realized that they only had two machines located all the way in the back of the bar in a crowded, low-ceilinged room. There was a wait to play skeeball. A wait.
At C-Lounge, you have to get a drink ticket from a bartender. Then, you have to move to the back pizza bar to obtain your free pizza. In other words, you have to abandon your coveted seat at the bar (or position at the bar) where you can most easily access your bartender in order to get your pizza. That having been said, you also have to ask the bartender for your pizza ticket. I don’t know about you, but that makes me feel like a freeloader. A fat freeloader. Who’s poor.
Not to make Croc Lounge feel bad, but at its Brooklyn counterparts there’s no process for the free pizza. It pops out on the bar so that you simultaneously have your pizza sitting beside your beautiful drink For poor-hungry-assholes like myself, this would make me more likely to keep drinking. The pizza is free anyway, so why not serve it directly to your customers while they’re in front of you, so that when they taste the salty goodness they immediately want another wellvodkasoda, or whatever it is that they drink??
All of that having been said, when push comes to shove, the pizza at Crocodile Lounge is obviously nothing to write home about. It shouldn’t have to be – it is free. However, the owners/establishers of this shoddy establishment failed to realize that there’s a really fucking decent pizza place about 20 feet away that serves bottled beer, and they don’t make you walk to another counter to get that beer. I’m not sure of the name of the place, its one of those everything pizza parlors that has tables in the back, but the pizza is fairly awesome. Plus, if you’re willing to make the paces over to Ave A you can sample some of the best pizza and food known to man at any time of the night or day.
My take on this whole eating/drinking bargain bullshit? If you need to save money, buy yourself a flask of your favorite liquor and marry it with a large Poland spring and some soda water. If you like dark liquor, but it in a fucking MinutemadeApplejuice container – be fucking creative! Then walk to your nearest falafel stand and find an quiet bench or stoop in your favorite area. If you aren’t a rowdy moron, it’s a most pleasant way to spend a weekend night when the bars are full of losers anyway. Plus, you get the added thrill of concealing the fact that you’re drinking, and that always makes me nostalgic for high school.