Aug 18, 2014

0 notes
Living in a concrete jungle #manhattan  (at 31St Street, Midtown, Manhattan)

Living in a concrete jungle #manhattan (at 31St Street, Midtown, Manhattan)

Aug 17, 2014

1 note
Rainy Sunday morning. A cab beeped at me for stopping in the cross walk to take this. So I finished crossing before flicking him off. (at Greenwich Avenue, NYC)

Rainy Sunday morning. A cab beeped at me for stopping in the cross walk to take this. So I finished crossing before flicking him off. (at Greenwich Avenue, NYC)

Aug 13, 2014

0 notes
Concert in Vienna. Unfortunately what this photo does not capture is the woman in front of us wearing white Newbalance sneakers. (at Hofberg Palace, Vienna)

Concert in Vienna. Unfortunately what this photo does not capture is the woman in front of us wearing white Newbalance sneakers. (at Hofberg Palace, Vienna)

Aug 8, 2014

1 note

Just hit the flight attendant button instead of the flush button in the lavatory. It wouldn’t turn off so I ran back to my seat without washing my hands. It’s time to get this trip started. Family vacation. Off to Berlin.

Aug 8, 2014

3 notes
Seen in Manhattan on 36th street. I know monochromatic is in, but I think she misunderstood the assignment. 

How does a person even put a look together like this? It either requires years of planning, or a bathtub, a lot of dye, and the above jacket, skirt, and pantyhose. It’s worth mentioning this is a very specific shade of purple; it’s like she matched it to a grape soda bottle. It’s like she was standing in the mirror at the store like, “Fanta purple. That’s it. That’s the ticket.” Unfortunately, that show never really took off.

Seen in Manhattan on 36th street. I know monochromatic is in, but I think she misunderstood the assignment.

How does a person even put a look together like this? It either requires years of planning, or a bathtub, a lot of dye, and the above jacket, skirt, and pantyhose. It’s worth mentioning this is a very specific shade of purple; it’s like she matched it to a grape soda bottle. It’s like she was standing in the mirror at the store like, “Fanta purple. That’s it. That’s the ticket.” Unfortunately, that show never really took off.

Aug 8, 2014

1 note
Remember when I took my shoes to the cobbler and they made them look like a spray painted car? (A spray-painted car with furry dice hanging from the rear-view mirror and upholstery hanging down from the ceiling.) This is not how I brought them in. 
These are perfect for either 1. one of those street performers who also spray-paints their clothes, hands, and face this color and only moves when you put a quarter in their bucket or 2) a Michael Jackson impersonator.

This is what I get for buying gold shoes. Fail.

Remember when I took my shoes to the cobbler and they made them look like a spray painted car? (A spray-painted car with furry dice hanging from the rear-view mirror and upholstery hanging down from the ceiling.) This is not how I brought them in.
These are perfect for either 1. one of those street performers who also spray-paints their clothes, hands, and face this color and only moves when you put a quarter in their bucket or 2) a Michael Jackson impersonator.

This is what I get for buying gold shoes. Fail.

Aug 8, 2014

0 notes
Secrets to happiness 101:  

1. Go to Patisserie Claude on West 4th at 7:30 AM. 
2. Get a chocolate croissant and a coffee. Don’t worry about size specifics because there’s only one cup. 
3. The person helping you will probably speak very little English, but if he/she asks “milk?”, and you nod, just know in advance it will be whole milk and there will be a lot of it, unless you respond “pequiño”, in which case you might get lucky and it won’t taste like chocolate milk. You ‘just-about-a-thimble-full-of-soy’ people can take your attitude elsewhere.
4. Everything will come in or on paper serving-ware, and it will be $4. 
5. You will sit down on a rickety wooden chair that momentarily will give you pause it may collapse under the weight of your own body, and you will go tumbling onto the floor. 

However, now you are ready.

When you take a bite of that warm, flaky, out-of-the-oven pain au chocolate, the rich, molten silk will drape over your tongue like a passionate lover, kissing every taste bud as if he will be gone by morning. But just as the body seems to transcend itself hedonistic pleasure, the just-cooked, doughy layers of pastry will sweetly embrace your soul in cocoon of buttery bliss for a landing so smooth, it’s a ride that will be over before you once again open your eyes, that you’ll want to take over and over again. 

And then you’ll want to eat the flakes off the table and realize that will make you look homeless and starving, so instead you throw the paper plate out in the trash and leave the premises, forever changed. 

I had this experience this morning. I want to fashion a bed out of that chocolate croissant and sleep inside it. Instead, I left to pick up my shoes at the cobbler..

Secrets to happiness 101:

1. Go to Patisserie Claude on West 4th at 7:30 AM.
2. Get a chocolate croissant and a coffee. Don’t worry about size specifics because there’s only one cup.
3. The person helping you will probably speak very little English, but if he/she asks “milk?”, and you nod, just know in advance it will be whole milk and there will be a lot of it, unless you respond “pequiño”, in which case you might get lucky and it won’t taste like chocolate milk. You ‘just-about-a-thimble-full-of-soy’ people can take your attitude elsewhere.
4. Everything will come in or on paper serving-ware, and it will be $4.
5. You will sit down on a rickety wooden chair that momentarily will give you pause it may collapse under the weight of your own body, and you will go tumbling onto the floor.

However, now you are ready.

When you take a bite of that warm, flaky, out-of-the-oven pain au chocolate, the rich, molten silk will drape over your tongue like a passionate lover, kissing every taste bud as if he will be gone by morning. But just as the body seems to transcend itself hedonistic pleasure, the just-cooked, doughy layers of pastry will sweetly embrace your soul in cocoon of buttery bliss for a landing so smooth, it’s a ride that will be over before you once again open your eyes, that you’ll want to take over and over again.

And then you’ll want to eat the flakes off the table and realize that will make you look homeless and starving, so instead you throw the paper plate out in the trash and leave the premises, forever changed.

I had this experience this morning. I want to fashion a bed out of that chocolate croissant and sleep inside it. Instead, I left to pick up my shoes at the cobbler..

Aug 7, 2014

1 note
Listen, man, I get it. I know what it’s like to be down and out.. you know, so desperate you go out to the bars with your phone number taped on your back in mailbox address stickers. ..Not that I’ve done that.. [Cough].. My friend.. I mean- [cough].. Fuck.
Anyway, look, I don’t think taping a flier with your prison convict photo on it to a Manhattan light pole is going to change your luck. There’s a more efficient avenue for this called Match.com.
Regardless, a few things:
1. Why did you only offer three take-away response tabs? Evidently you’re not banking on a high success rate here. Could have copied and pasted a few more boxes. Just saying.
2. Do relationships ‘morph’? Into what do they morph? An X-man? Sorry, I’m just trying to understand here.
3. “Enquiry”? What, are we in Great Britain? Are you offering legal advice? I am just interested in learning more about the word choice here. Why.
Anyway, I appreciate the effort. Someone out there will appreciate it. I hope it ‘morphs’ into a star-crossed Shakespearian love, and you live happily ever after. Unless, of course, it’s the fourth woman who wants to respond to the ad, and her only option is to take the flier home and sleep with your prison face next to hers at night because there were no more response tabs left.

Listen, man, I get it. I know what it’s like to be down and out.. you know, so desperate you go out to the bars with your phone number taped on your back in mailbox address stickers. ..Not that I’ve done that.. [Cough].. My friend.. I mean- [cough].. Fuck.

Anyway, look, I don’t think taping a flier with your prison convict photo on it to a Manhattan light pole is going to change your luck. There’s a more efficient avenue for this called Match.com.

Regardless, a few things:

1. Why did you only offer three take-away response tabs? Evidently you’re not banking on a high success rate here. Could have copied and pasted a few more boxes. Just saying.

2. Do relationships ‘morph’? Into what do they morph? An X-man? Sorry, I’m just trying to understand here.

3. “Enquiry”? What, are we in Great Britain? Are you offering legal advice? I am just interested in learning more about the word choice here. Why.

Anyway, I appreciate the effort. Someone out there will appreciate it. I hope it ‘morphs’ into a star-crossed Shakespearian love, and you live happily ever after. Unless, of course, it’s the fourth woman who wants to respond to the ad, and her only option is to take the flier home and sleep with your prison face next to hers at night because there were no more response tabs left.

Aug 7, 2014

1 note
Let’s go ahead and file this under “Things you don’t want to see when walking to work”. Is this from a Bugs Bunny cartoon? I feel like Wiley Coyote should be driving the truck with a thistle in his mouth. I didn’t think vehicles like this existed in real life..
Only in Manhattan.
On that note, not that it needs to be decorated with flowers, but did they need to paint the truck red and make the ‘explosives' letters so large? They might as well have just slapped a huge skull-and-crossbones on the side. It should just read “DEATH”. 
I would die if the driver were smoking. No, really, I would die when the truck exploded.

Let’s go ahead and file this under “Things you don’t want to see when walking to work”. Is this from a Bugs Bunny cartoon? I feel like Wiley Coyote should be driving the truck with a thistle in his mouth. I didn’t think vehicles like this existed in real life..

Only in Manhattan.

On that note, not that it needs to be decorated with flowers, but did they need to paint the truck red and make the ‘explosives' letters so large? They might as well have just slapped a huge skull-and-crossbones on the side. It should just read “DEATH”.

I would die if the driver were smoking. No, really, I would die when the truck exploded.

Aug 6, 2014

0 notes
Evidently someone at the cobbler can’t wait to get out of work at night. Those are usually my most productive 5 minutes. Probably has yoga at 7.
Also let it be said that it’s 7:54AM, and I am standing here with a pair of shoes that need to be polished, and the gate is closed / the lights are off. These must be time ‘estimates’, based on sleep contentment and work enthusiasm.  

Evidently someone at the cobbler can’t wait to get out of work at night. Those are usually my most productive 5 minutes. Probably has yoga at 7.

Also let it be said that it’s 7:54AM, and I am standing here with a pair of shoes that need to be polished, and the gate is closed / the lights are off. These must be time ‘estimates’, based on sleep contentment and work enthusiasm.  

Navigate
« To the past Page 1 of 177
About
A blog from New York City. I don't tag my posts, and all my readers I welcome as friends. See something funny? E-mail me anytime and I will post: justinthecityblog@gmail.com Subscribe via RSS.