A couple of good friends and I went to brunch yesterday, as most city dwellers like to do on the weekends.

After brunch, we decided to go over to the park at Union Square and take up residence on a bench, so that we could continue our discussion on viral marketing, interweb traffic, and other people’s sex lives.

Grand, eh?

ANYWAYS…

We’re just sitting there, gossiping about all kinds of goodly things, when some random young fella decides to come on over to try and give us his Magical Pamphlet. He started asking us if we believed in God, and since my two comrades suddenly got a case of the me-no-speakies, the following exchange took place:

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Three weeks after the event, I still had my wedding manicure - peeling and rather terrible-looking. After spending ten minutes trying to scrub off the nail polish remnants on one nail (that nail polish must have been super strength or something), I decided it was worth seeking professional help.

I checked out Jay Nails, in the West Village. I’d passed the place frequently on my way to work and found the decor, with its calming earth tones, appealing. There was no wait - they went to work on my nails right away, while I happily watched the news on their flat screen TVs. I was rather surprised when the establishment’s very pink clock came alive on the hour, changing into a flower and playing a childish melody - an odd choice for a nail salon. But they were finished in not more than 10 minutes. And despite the quickness, my manicure looked great. Definitely worth the reasonable price of $9.

Okay - as promised, here is the second installment of A Commuter’s Manifesto.

Please keep in mind that this was compiled from hours upon hours of research and “man on the street” style reporting - basically, I just asked people what drives them nuts about commuting, and they pretty much gave me these answers*.

PART II: WHEN RIDING THE SUBWAY (more…)

Last week we were at the Grand Canyon for a family vacation. Standing in line at the IMAX theater to buy tickets, I had a very interesting exchange with the guy selling tickets.

He asks us how many we want. I tell him 6, and then ask him if there are any discounts for AAA members. He says yes. He then asks me where we are from. I said New York. He responds back saying “well maybe then I should not give you a discount”.

I was like “Hunh !! Why ??”

He then in all seriousness says they in Arizona do not like New Yorkers, but that we fare better than people fromNew Jersey and Massachusetts.

The line was too long for me to debate him on where the hell he came up with such a blatant categorization. But hell, at least we ain’t as bad as the guys across the Hudson eh !

Whatever.

Okay, like, seriously?

There is nothing that pisses me off more than the way most of the Undead wander around The City all aloof and stupid-like. So, this here manifesto is a Call To Arms, so to speak. A sort of Commuter’s Guideline, if you will.

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT FOR NYC COMMUTERS

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Photo from msnbcmedia2.msn.com

So there’s a man in Washington Square Park who feeds the pigeons. I see him nearly everyday when I go to the park at lunch. Not only does he feed them, he seems to know each one, calls them by name and lets them perch all over him. Sometimes he’ll have one on his head, several on his shoulders, and some on his arms.

Now, I love animals…But pigeons, really? I might not subscribe to the common phrase that pigeons are rats with wings, but they get plenty to eat in this city. And I sort of feel that feeding them just encourages them to bother the rest of us more. Ever since an unfortunate incident involving me sitting under a tree in Herald Square and and a pigeon perched above me, I’ve never particularly liked them. Of course, that taught me to be careful where I sit in the future!

You’d think having pigeons perched all over you might land you in a similar, messy situation…

After spending the last few weeks on little things like getting married and honeymooning in Turkey, I’m back in the city! I thought a NY Philharmonic Concert in Central Park would be a fitting city gathering to catch up with friends in our first week back.

I love these concerts. I go to at least one every year, armed with cheese, wine, and a picnic blanket. It’s such a great New York experience. This year seemed even more crowded than usual - people were everywhere and, with the lack of walking paths, they had no choice but to walk through other people’s picnics. Even so, it was a good time. We had a larger spread than usual and better wine. The music included Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Sibelius and provided a great soundtrack for relaxing on a summer evening with close friends. The evening culminated in a bright, booming fireworks display.

Free events in NYC continue throughout the summer. This Thursday, Broadway in Bryant Park continues with songs from Avenue Q, The Phantom of the Opera, Mamma Mia!, In the Heights, and Pure Country.

Thieves in NYC are blatant assholes. Especially thieves who steal bikes or bike parts. Today while I was working, my bike nestled down on the loading dock with all the other bikes, someone stole my rear wheel. Thank you asshole, you gave me a good reason to walk a lot of blocks to a bike store to get a makeshift wheel. I say makeshift because what was taken from me wasn’t an ordinary rear wheel. It was a special hub that makes a bike with vertical dropouts (see half way down the page for illustration) convert to a fixed gear or singlespeed using an off center ‘eccentric’ axle. It’s the White Industries ENO hub. It was mated to an anodized red rim. It was part of a wheelset I had for about 7 years. I have been riding with it in NYC for the last 4. Moral here is don’t underestimate the asshole thief who knows his bike parts. The thief had to use an allen wrench to remove the wheel. Tomorrow when I park my bike on the same loading dock I am going to post a sign on my bike that reads:

Before I get to the story, we’ve all run into this situation before. How far is too far? Eastside, Westside, Uptown, Downtown, Brooklyn, Queens? For me, as long as I can get there by subway, it’s not too far. The PATH is usually a stretch for me, but I’ve been known to attempt a date out in New Jersey.

During my last family visit to Long Island, I stopped by my brother’s job to meet him for lunch. After my quick stop into the ladies room to primp, this guy walked out of the men’s room at the same time and smiled at me. Turns out, it was Little Dougie from the 5th Grade. Well, not so little anymore. I’m not sure what came over me but I ran over to him, gave him this huge hug and after some small talk, I told him to give me a call the next time he was coming into the city so that we could catch up. Thinking back, I find it amusing that I didn’t even consider telling him that this city girl would meet up on the Island for a drink. God FORBID!
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NYC has it’s own distinct protest group that brings along with them a giant blow up rat. They stand outside a particular location, often a business, to make the public aware of something they find rather awful. In this case I was in Union Sq. by the Kids ‘r’ Us. They were handing out fliers for the company removing asbestos on the building. The leaflet they were handing out was touting the removal company was more interested in lining their pockets than doing safe or environmentally responsible work.

I don’t know enough about this organization to say much more. I recall that somehow non union labor has something to do with it. This is not the first time I have seen the Rat Squad.

Have you seen the Rat Squad?