You are currently viewing the stories for October, 2002

Noppi

by 10/30/2002
Neighborhood: Financial District

1. Well, that’s it, Noppi, I’m up early again, I can’t sleep. My throat is killing me and I’m coughing. I think it’s the smoke because everyone else has it too. The subways are quiet. People bump into each other and don’t apologize. A woman slips in through the closing doors and takes the seat […]

Inside Inside.com

by Thomas Beller 10/25/2002
Neighborhood: Chelsea

“Hello! If you would like a free internet website, plus a chance to make a lot of money, press one now.”–Automated telephone sales pitch delivered on Easter Sunday My God, those heady months of January through April 13th, 2000, when every internet IPO went through the roof and Black Friday was a reference to a […]

Gem Spa and The Whiffle Ball Kid

by Thomas Beller 10/25/2002
Neighborhood: East Village

We convoyed out to a house in Connecticut. The swimming pool was very warm. There were huge trees in the backyard and they swayed in the breeze, and beneath them, an expanse of lawn. We went shopping at the local Haymarket–which is sort of a Balducci’s for Connecticans–and my friend left the key in the […]

A Few Facts About Tuba Repair

by 10/25/2002
Neighborhood: Chelsea

Charles McAlexander is a big man, maybe 220 pounds and 6 foot 1. He wears an old work shirt that used to be bright red but now is more of a calm royal maroon with the inscription of Brass Lab in gold cursive on the chest pocket of the left-hand side. The button up shirt […]

My Secret Socks Life

by 10/25/2002
Neighborhood: Midtown

Illustrations by Elisha Cooper Some people come to New York for the thrills. Some for romance. My desire starts lower down–well below the knee–in a hidden, private erogenous zone, where I get my kicks. This is the story of my socks life. I was travelling along Broadway in one of those reassuring black Town Cars. […]

Half-Time Show at the Jets Game

by Thomas Beller 10/24/2002
Neighborhood: Letter From Abroad, Outer Boroughs

We arrived at Giants Stadium. There are four huge spiraling ramps through which the stadium’s population of 80,000 enter and exit. They wind their way from the ground level up to the top, a huge cement coil faintly reminiscent of the Guggenheim Museum, though with a more prison vibe. My friend explained that it was […]

Hallucinating Your Way To Marriage

by 10/24/2002
Neighborhood: Upper West Side

Department of Open Minds The William Alanson White Institute, founded in 1943 by Clara Thompson, among others, is known for its interpersonal approach to analysis. The interpersonal approach suggests that the patient is part of a complex social network that includes the therapist, and therefore the patient’s relationship to the analyst is less formal and […]

The Tango Junkies

by 10/23/2002
Neighborhood: Upper West Side

The first time I heard of the Tango Hotline, I laughed. The name was so apt. A hotline for the tangueros and milongueras who desperately need to find a “milonga” where they can dance. My tango obsession began after I had broken up with a long-time boyfriend. It was May. So I took ballroom dance […]

The Barber Shops On Amsterdam

by 10/23/2002
Neighborhood: Upper West Side

Photographs by Rachel Sherman Inside Miguel’s Barbershop on 942 Amsterdam Avenue, Spanish speaking men sit in barber chairs facing the mirror. It is a sunny Friday in the early afternoon and the shop is busy. I ask a guy named Anthony, who is sitting in the back, about Miguel’s. "This is a guy’s place," he […]

Wild Style and The Politics Of Space

by 10/22/2002
Neighborhood: East Village

“Graffiti is alive,” is one of several bits of agitprop that appeared not too long ago on the side of the Brooklyn Bridge. The more drastic any act of suppression is, the more extreme will be the reactions to it. In our zero tolerance, quality of life, war on drugs, law and order prison-industry age, […]

Waiting Room

by 10/16/2002
Neighborhood: Upper East Side

The woman sits. Pant legs are chewed. A blue parka soiled with what looks like oatmeal. It’s the Waiting Room. Institutional seat cushions, easily cleaned in case of vomit, spit, coffee, or feces. I pretend to read. The woman’s tongue stabs the air. She has no teeth. “It’s 11:30,” she insists, speaking to the receptionist. […]

Tillary Street Basketball Court

by 10/15/2002
Neighborhood: Brooklyn

A photo is due soon of this basketball court, along with some anecdotes, the usual bloody minded gasping for words to explain basketball prose to be found on this site and http://www.thebasketballdiaries.net