theparisreview
theparisreview:

“I had never seen George here before, but I took it this was his regular seat. I asked him where he thought he’d go when, in a few days, the Blarney Cove closed down. He sighed. ‘Home, I guess.’”
Joe Kloc on last call at the Blarney Cove.

Oh, this makes me sad. I lived down the block from this place for four years. For as long as I was there, this was a block full of vaguely sketchy discount dollar stores, a couple solid bodegas (RIP the one on the corner of Ave A that burned out in a fire), a Rite Aid, the world’s most resentfully-staffed Dunkin’ Donuts, motherfucking Otto’s Shrunken Head, and this tiny, dirty, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Irish bar. It was full of character, and at least one excellent bodega cat. I haven’t been back in a while, but from what I hear half the block’s tenants have lost their leases. Luxury apartment building have been creeping further east on 14th St for years, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time till they cross Avenue A. Always change and never change, New York.

theparisreview:

“I had never seen George here before, but I took it this was his regular seat. I asked him where he thought he’d go when, in a few days, the Blarney Cove closed down. He sighed. ‘Home, I guess.’”

Joe Kloc on last call at the Blarney Cove.

Oh, this makes me sad. I lived down the block from this place for four years. For as long as I was there, this was a block full of vaguely sketchy discount dollar stores, a couple solid bodegas (RIP the one on the corner of Ave A that burned out in a fire), a Rite Aid, the world’s most resentfully-staffed Dunkin’ Donuts, motherfucking Otto’s Shrunken Head, and this tiny, dirty, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Irish bar. It was full of character, and at least one excellent bodega cat. I haven’t been back in a while, but from what I hear half the block’s tenants have lost their leases. Luxury apartment building have been creeping further east on 14th St for years, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time till they cross Avenue A. Always change and never change, New York.

velocipedestrienne

velocipedestrienne:

motivatedslacker:

greengoldandgrey:

When you say things like this:

The average low end rent in NYC is 30K/yr.

You sound really out of touch and I find it difficult to empathize. 

I could see that being true for the West Village, but I’m also confused by the implication that employees would have to live in the West Village or nearby - “within range of Warby’s West Village HQ”. The subway is a wonderful thing! It takes you places!

Also, the average starting wage is $12/hr. Which, like, I don’t know if you’ve ever worked a service job in NYC, but that’s pretty damn good for a starting hourly wage here. It shouldn’t be, but man, most starting averages are $9-10 in the city, for a retail/service job. Again, sans benefits.

I’m not okaying it, but let’s not get bent out of shape about something that is better than average. If you’re measuring it by the hour, it’s not a salary. Tell me something that’s actually surprising.

$30k a year breaks down to $2500/month. For comparison, my whole three bedroom apartment is around $3000/month, and there are three of us splitting that. Should WP pay their employees more? Yes. But let’s also be real about what their employees are actually paying in expenses.

bookoisseur
With the exception of that time when I got The Great Brooklyn Stomach Bug of 2013 and spent three straight days watching Downton Abbey on my bathroom floor, I have not gone a single day in New York without a man yelling at me, rubbing up against me, making lewd gestures in my direction, providing unsolicited commentary on my body, or badgering me for my contact information.

"But that sounds crazy!" the dudes protest. And it is! Until you talk to literally any woman ever and they tell you the exact same thing.

Every mundane choice you make, from the length of your skirt to the opacity of your tights to the volume of your iPod to the sturdiness of your jewelry, must be considered carefully and yet doesn’t matter at all. If I had to run in these shoes, could I? If someone grabbed my ponytail or my necklace, could I shake him off? Does this color make me look like I want to be approached? And off come the never-worn stilettos and down comes the hair, and all of a sudden you’re wearing an outfit that you hate, because you are just too fucking tired to deal with it today…and some asshole walks up to you on the train platform and starts making kissy noises in your ear anyway.

It’s like an eternal ringing in your ears, except sometimes that ringing assumes a human form and follows you home at night.

Your Summer Guide to Annihilating Street Harassers (via celaenoo)

That third paragraph, though. Painfully true. Just to reiterate:

And off come the never-worn stilettos and down comes the hair, and all of a sudden you’re wearing an outfit that you hate, because you are just too fucking tired to deal with it today…and some asshole walks up to you on the train platform and starts making kissy noises in your ear anyway.