Revolution Evolution

Excuses: Mother is the necessity of their invention ;-) Sorry, mom. I just thought that it was the coolest word play i've heard in a while, at a party last night. Something I discovered about New York City apartments, today. The smaller they are, the more happening the parties. Friend of mine signed up a one-bedroom in Soho where she lives alone (read: yes, she's stinking rich), and threw the most ridiculous house-steaming party. Her priority in the hunt - location, location, location! Also, as part of my theory- New Yorkers get drunk far slower than New Jerseyites. You can also tell them apart really well, as part of my analysis. NJ-ites stare at the clock/watch more, drink faster, take longer to settle into a party, aren't as loud and overbearing, describe their location in Jersey in terms of distance from 'the city' and pack up sooner because they need to drive/commute home. Also, NJ-ites don't get much action. Because the pick-up line, "Your place or mine?" is usually followed by a trip to Penn Station or Port Authority, which is an immediate turn-off, and if you drive, chances are bright that the girl falls asleep in her drunken stupor before you hit the Turnpike.

Something about the NYC subway keeps you awake and seeking. Isn't it just the best? Especially on Saturday nights, you always the 'stink cabin' phenomenon - the inevitable cabin on the 1 or 9 where someone has thrown up because he/she mixed straight JDs with Apple Martinis. The inevitable Jesuit converter, usually Black and well dressed even at 4 AM, reading out passages from the Jehovah's Witness' Guide to Screwing With People's Minds. Notice that its only when you're drunk that you actually end up listening to these guys and saying stuff like "Right on!". Also, there's the inevitable wannabe musician selling CDs, the old-black-man a capella groups (some of whom are really good) and of course, those kids selling M&Ms for their so-called Basketball team, who shadily talk on Razrs and drive Miatas to "work" - woo hoo, talk about charity.

Ah but its New York. The New Yorker has a big red sign now, so you know big and bright where the shittiest rooms in the city are at. Gotta love the city that never sleeps. As Carrie says it best, "Despite the fact that there are over eight million people on the island of Manhattan, there are times you still feel shipwrecked and alone. Times even the most resourceful survivor would feel the need to put a message in a bottle, or on an answering machine".