From The New York Shitty Inbox: Townies Versus Newbies

An off-again, on again problem yours truly experiences is insomnia. Last night was no exception: I could not for the life of me fall asleep. Finally I gave up, grabbed a glass of milk and quietly shuffled to the computer. When I checked my email something very special awaiting me. It didn’t help me sleep at all (quite to the contrary— that’s impossible to do after laughing one’s ass off) but it is certainly worth passing along nonetheless.  J writes:

I was witness to a really hilarious stoopid event last night.

I was on Bedford and N9 waiting for the B61 around 11pm, being joined by a rather large young local construction (and slightly inebriated) worker guy.  He sat on the stoop by the bus stop.  Above us, four hipster idiots drunk and or drugged were on the roof snickering and cackling to their own amusement/irony.  One of the idiots started flicking crap off the roof at the big Polish guy.  He started cursing and finally yelled at them.  After a few more times, and a lit cigarette bouncing off his back, he shouted:

Motherfuck!! Fuck you asshole!

to which the girlie on the roof replied:

Fuck you you fucking Polack!

This threw the guy into a rage,

You motherfuck, I show you!

and he proceeds to start kicking the door at the top of the stoop.  I went into “keep an eye on things but out of direct contact” mode I learned in BedStuy in the 80’s.  He finally kicked the door in, cursing and shouting.  He returns with a bicycle from inside the house and curses at the idiots on the roof:

You motherfucks I show you now I have your bike you motherfuck!

and proceeds to ride the bike down Bedford.  The problem is – he kicked in the door and stole the bicycle FROM THE WRONG HOUSE.  Naturally, the people of the house whose door he kicked in were pretty upset and a minute or so later half dozen of New York’s Finest showed up.  The idiots on the roof of the house next door quickly disappeared.  Since someone decided to rat me out as an eye witness, I gave them a basic description of the transactions between the idiots and of the guy, and let the folks in the house of the broken door know who should get talked to.  Then the 61 finally showed up and I split.

This is turning out to be an interesting summer.

Indeed.

Miss Heather