You are currently viewing the stories for September, 2008

May December

by 09/21/2008
Neighborhood: East Village

We went to the movies and it was Woody Allen’s latest, about realistic murder, the first time in his career I think the man has been honest or real about anything and I wanted to kill Edward the entire time we were in there. “Honey put your coat on your seat, you can’t see.” He […]

Drinking Until His Next Paycheck

by 09/12/2008
Neighborhood: Upper West Side

Hey man, do you have a cigarette?” A man asked me out of nowhere. I didn’t see him creeping up to me, usually I am aware of my surroundings but he was soundless in his approach. “Naw, sorry, I bummed this from someone.” Which was true, I did bum the smoke from my friend still […]

Crack Island

by 09/06/2008
Neighborhood: East Village

East 11th Street between Avenue B and C on the Lower East Side of New York was hot for drugs the summer of 1986. The tenement building on the corner of Avenue B was called ‘the Rock.’ Teenage look-outs steered cokeheads into the tenement. The metal apartment doors were welded shut. A spy hole allowed […]

What We’re on This Earth For

by 09/06/2008
Neighborhood: Brooklyn, Outer Boroughs

“You’re blocking the whole fucking street, you’re a total asshole!” The woman in the road screamed at me. But she only knew one of my attributes and that hardly qualified her to give a generalizing narrative to all of the other onlookers. I agreed to move my vehicle but she was the bitter, lingering sort. […]

José and the System

by 09/01/2008
Neighborhood: Union Square

As he sits on the railing in Union Square Park, surrounded by hundreds of young men and women absorbing the first warm day of the year, José’s hands move nervously over a bottle of orange juice. On the label is an idyllic American farm, no doubt in some far-off corner of the country, where the […]

Lick Us

by 09/01/2008
Neighborhood: Midtown

It’s 31 degrees on the third Saturday in February and I’m ignoring everyone on 9th Avenue. I am not a native and my ability to ignore is still a blunt instrument, numbing when engaged, so that walking down the street feels a bit like being led by a string out of a dark tunnel into […]