Socrates Gets “Chopped”

A few months ago my fellow Greenpointer 11222 noted that Socrates Diner was closing. I learned this week that this is not entirely true. Socrates is still with us, they simply leased out the northern section of their store front.

What kind of business now occupies this space, you ask?

Another fucking real estate broker, that’s who. I cannot decide which is more ridiculous: the recent (and massive) proliferation of real estate offices here or paying $1,400 a month for a one bedroom apartment on Siegel Street. Both are equally absurd (and loathsome) in my book.

Miss Heather

Credits: The “Socrates For Rent” photograph is courtesy of 11222.

The Campbell’s Comfy Chair

Now that my fellow Greenpointers who were craving free bones (and you know who you are) have headed to the Polski Meat Market and picked some up, I am certain a number of them are wondering:

I have my bone, what do I do next?

May I recommend savoring your newly acquired comfort food while luxuriating in 111 Green Street’s very own comfy chair!

Not only is this chair stylish and roomy, but it is also located only steps away from 110 Green Street and is appointed with luxurious pork and bean upholstery for your al fresco dining pleasure.

Wow, just like mom used to make!

Miss Heather

Busy Night at 143 Huron Street

I am just now enjoying the first semblance of peace and quiet I have had all evening. It is 11:13 p.m.

My evening was kicked off by my neighbor (who I have taken to calling Chatty Cathy) yammering to her friends on her cell phone. I regret to inform everyone that she and her boyfriend have broken up. She’s really upset about it too. I suppose that’s why she spent several hours recounting each and every painful detail to her numerous friends. Among them was her former boyfriend stating that he needed to “find himself”. It took every iota of restraint I had to keep from shouting out the window:

You’re ex-boyfriend is full of shit!

Eventually she saw fit to go back indoors and continue her (undoubtedly) very sad story. I suspect my shouting

If they do not stop making all that goddamn noise I am going to call the fucking police!

had something to do with this. This outburst was not directed at her (I am not the kind of person to call the cops on someone when he or she is down), rather, one of the neighboring landlords saw fit to employ an international coalition of idiots (Thanks for this one, Dategirl!) to do a little work on her building’s facade. Was there a permit posted sanctioning this? No, why should there be? In Greenpoint we don’t need no steeeenking permits. They finally saw fit to call it quits at 7:00 p.m. How very thoughtful of them.

Unfortunately, the chaps at 143 Huron were not so considerate. Despite being ordered by the Department of Buildings not to work after hours they were quite the busy (and noisy) beavers tonight. Imagine that. So on top of listening to my husband conduct a conference call regarding some I.T. meltdown at his place of employment, I also got to bask in the sound of sheet metal being cut and hammered.

After taking the above photo, I called 311. I explained to the operator that I have complained about them working after hours twice the previous month. I provided her the complaint numbers and she pulled up the records on her computer. Even she was confused by the following disposition given by the Department of Buildings.

As you can see, 143 Huron was issued a stop work order violation for “after hours work only”. My phone call to 311 was placed at 7:25 p.m. This is “after hours”. The operator asked me if they were still working and I assured her they were. See where I’m going here?

Another complaint was filed and I added it to the growing collection on my dry erase board. Remembering what a D.E.P. operator advised a fellow Greenpointer to do in such situations, I called the police. That came to pass at 7:30 p.m.

I waited, they worked.

LOUDLY.

At 7:54 p.m. I receive a call from the 94th Precinct. The woman tells me a squad car is there and the officers report they cannot hear anything. I begged to differ, so I threw on some sweat pants and walked over to 143 Huron. After acknowledging that yes, these men are making a lot of noise, I am told that the police cannot do anything about “construction matters” and that I should take it up with the Department of Buildings. I tell them I have. Repeatedly. In return I am assured they will “come by to inspect it eventually”. I go home.

The workers do not.

They finally decided to wind things down at 9:30 p.m. My husband got off the phone at 11:10 p.m. Which brings me back to where I am at right now. It is late. I am tired. Tired and very, very PISSED OFF.

Miss Heather

Polka Porn?

Yesterday I found a real gem at the Salvation Army on Manhattan Avenue.

Even though I do not even own a record player, I shelled out the one dollar required to purchase this item and brought it home. Let’s just say it tickles my admittedly perverse fancy. First, you have a man and woman who look like they are going at it. Secondly, this image is flanked by canned ham, bread, a mug of beer and a number of rather phallic sausages, of which one has been sliced by a rather menacing looking knife. Kielbasa a la Bobbit!

But the best part, dear readers, cannot been seen in the above photo: it is the ad copy on the back. Here it is in all its glory. Warning: reading the following might induce night terrors and chronic bed wetting.

Shouldn’t that be Jack Stulak on the strumpet and David Pietrzak on the sexaphone?

The concept of “adults only” Polka brings to mind a number of things I could quite frankly do without. Polka key parties, Polka wife-swapping and Polka orgies, just to name a few. I can’t believe I just thought of Polka key parties. I must go now. I need to take a nice scalding hot shower and scrub the stain off my soul.

Miss Heather

UPDATE, 10/17/07: This morning I received an email from a new reader of New York Shitty. He writes:

Polish Songs Mama Never Taught Me: Give it to me and I’ll make a high-quality CD of it. Sounds amazing.

I have taken him up on his offer.

Monday is Bone Day!

Any Greenpointers out there who loves them some bones, listen up.

Mondays are Bone Days at the Polski Meat Market. Those of you who are currently craving a bone (or two) should drop what you’re doing, head on down to 726 Manhattan Avenue and get you some! They’re totally FREE!!!

Polski Meat Market
726 Manhattan Avenue
Brooklyn, New York 11222

Be sure to tell them Miss Heather sent you.

Miss Heather