Smoking in New York City

Men--I'm going to share a little secret with you. There is one thing that is the biggest turn-off, like literally a deal-breaker. You can be handsome and successful and charming, but if you do this one thing, woman will go running for the hills.

I'm talking about smoking.

Last night, my girlfriends and I went to the Ava Lounge, a rooftop bar in Midtown that has absolutely gorgeous views of the city and Times Square. I loved the outdoor garden feel it provided. But we weren't there more than about 10 minutes before nearly every man started lighting up. Cigarettes...cigars, you name it. It was disgusting.

Beautiful view. The smell? Not so great

Perhaps we're spoiled by Mayor Bloomberg and NYC smoking laws that are some of the strictest in the nation, but we felt like this shouldn't be allowed. Can't you just enjoy nature and city views without lighting up?

Two dorky looking businessmen next to us were both smoking nasty cigars and of course, their smoke was blowing right in our faces. So with the courage of a few cocktails, I went up to them and asked them to kindly move because the smell was "so gross."

In their English accents, one said mockingly to me, "Our cigars smell so gross?" He smiled and they both laughed.

So I mocked him back with my best fake English accent, "That's right, they smell sooooo gross."

Neither one moved. I'm totally telling Prince William on them.

At this point, we can no longer breathe

Another man came up to our table to chat with us, and of course, he had a cigarette in his hand. We "politely" told him how gross he smelled and to please leave. Ha! Not the reaction he was hoping for, I'm guessing.

See men, is this what you want? Not only that, smoking makes your breath bad, your hands smell and lowers your sperm count. What part of that is attractive?

Sheesh. And you wonder why you're still single.

New York City living

This is the "Friends" apartment. I bet it didn't smell

On the very small island of Manhattan, you're at the mercy of your neighbors. If they smoke, you second-hand smoke. If they love cooking with curry, your hair and clothes will make it smell like you do too. If they like to listen to loud mariachi music at midnight, you might as well fall asleep with maracas in your hand. And if the little old lady in apartment #4 smells like she's harboring dead bodies in her apartment, well, you may as well pray that you will eventually lose your sense of smell.

I have only seen our neighbor in #4 a handful of times. She will shuffle to the mailbox and back once a day, and that's it. When she comes out, she will only crack her door a small amount, but it's enough to see a hoarder's delight. Newspapers, magazines, trash...you name it. I joke that she's like the Pig-Pen character from Peanuts, and you can pretty much see the cloud of dirt and dust seeping from underneath her door.

But recently, the smell became worse. Like as soon as you opened the building's front door, the odor from her apartment smacked you in the face. And even though we live four floors above her, the smell was starting to seep upstairs. Not even our air purifier or endless plug-ins from Bath and Body Works could cover up the smell of death.

I started coming up with all sorts of scenarios. Did her cat die but she refused to say goodbye, therefore, Puss 'N Boots decayed on her kitchen table? Did her husband die, but she kept him around so she could collect his Social Security checks?

I called our landlord's office, and asked for them to do a welfare check on her, wondering if maybe she had gone to the great beyond. (Obviously not Bed, Bath & Beyond.) The office assured me she was alive and well (and probably in a rent-controlled apartment) and that there had been other complaints as well. So many, in fact, they had police and fire come do a welfare check, but she wouldn't let them into her apartment.

Yep, it must be a dead body.

Well, I'm not sure what finally happened, but Mike said he saw a cleaning lady working on her apartment recently. Can you imagine what that job was like? Alas, the smell is better and all that remains is a black pile of grime right outside her door, evidence of some sort of major clean-up.

Thank god.

Now what can we do about that potent urine smell on the sidewalks?....

Best New York City Apartment

"In New York, you're always looking for a job, a boyfriend or an apartment." Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

We have lived in our very small Upper West Side apartment for about five months now, so it's only natural to start looking at other places. New Yorkers joke that as soon as you find an apartment, you need to begin searching for the next one, because the competition is so fierce.

For awhile now, I've been eyeing the most perfect apartment building at the corner of West End Avenue and 86th Street that I'm absolutely drooling over. Look at how beautiful it is....

Courtesy: 535 West End Avenue

It's a pre-war building, but you can tell someone put some serious money into it, and now it's modernly elegant. I walk the dogs by it quite often and we always stop and stare (or pee).

So I decided to Google my little piece of heaven, thinking since it's in our neighborhood, I bet the hubs and I could at least afford a junior studio. Confirming that I've always had a champagne taste on a Kool-Aid budget, here is what I found is a typical floorplan...

Yep, you're reading that right. 7 bedrooms and 7.5 bathrooms! 8,451 square feet! In Manhattan! And yes, you're seeing an actual IN-UNIT washer and dryer. I didn't even know such luxury existed in the middle of the city. This apartment makes up the entire 10th floor. (And I bet their building doesn't always smell like dead cats and Chinese food.)

Sadly, I'm pretty sure this apartment's "sitting room" is larger than our entire apartment. (And I'm guessing if you're paying the rent on this baby, you're not doing a lot of sitting. Probably a lot of 20-hour days at the office??)

I couldn't help but wonder (like Carrie Bradshaw always did), how much would you have to pay for this kind of luxury? Based on my math, just the seven bedrooms alone would cost at least $17,500 a month, and that doesn't include the bathrooms, service hall, library or reception hall.

So, for now, I guess we'll have to stay in our little apartment while dreaming about the day we'll have a "Bedroom #2."

Eating out in New York City

Eating out in New York City is not cheap. Heck, just "eating in" in NYC in not cheap. The first time I saw Apple Jacks selling for $8 a box, I nearly passed out. I mean, don't get me wrong, Apple Jacks are delicious, just not $8-a-box delicious.

But back to eating out. When cereal just won't cut it and I want a night out, like every other New Yorker, I'm faced with drinks ranging in price from $15-$18 and entrees ranging from $25-$35. Date night with the hubs or a night out with a girlfriend will easily run $100 or more. So imagine my surprise while eating out recently at a very nice Italian joint in Midtown and discovering that my bill was.... $0.

$0!

I was out to eat with a girlfriend at Nino's Tuscany on West 58th Street. We were finished with dinner and couldn't figure out why the server hadn't brought our check. I decided to hit the bathroom, and when I came out, my girlfriend told me that our dinner had already been paid for.

What??

Yep, turns out a regular guest sitting at the bar near us decided to treat us to dinner. He left by the time we found out...so he wasn't looking for praise or admiration... he just wanted to do something very nice for two women he didn't know.

It made my night.

Now in true "pay it forward" fashion, I probably should have paid for someone else's dinner that night. But are you crazy? I can't afford that! You see, I'm currently saving up for a box of Captain Crunch.

After our free dinner. At this point, I'm regretting that I didn't order another glass of wine.

Bernadette Peters New York City

Well, that sure was fun.

The Thursday before last, I decided to treat myself to a mani/pedi. I usually do my own nails to save money, so this was a first in New York City. I Googled places in our 'hood and decided on Polished Beauty Bar at 78th and Broadway.

A few minutes after I arrived, another woman came in and stood right next to me. I couldn't see her face because she was shorter than me, had on a cute beret and was looking down to check her cell phone. Shortly after that, the nail tech told us both to go over to the pedi stations so we could soak our feet. As I waited for the woman to take off her cute boots, I looked up and noticed that she was none other than...are you sitting down? Bernadette Peters! I recognized her immediately and gave her a smile.

So there I was, sitting right next to an amazingly talented movie, TV and Broadway actress. What's a girl to do? The obvious 2013 answer is post it to Facebook.

 

Shortly after my Facebook post, I got a ping on my cell phone. The text was from a former co-worker who told me that one of our other co-workers used to date Bernadette. WHAT??? I replied that she had to be kidding, but nope, she replied back that indeed they dated and I just HAD to ask Ms. Peters about him.

Alright, why the heck not?

Relying on skills learned during my Interpersonal Communications class during my junior year of college, I observed the subject. She was making small talk with the nail tech, so she is obviously friendly and open to conversation. And she was done checking her text messages, so it was the perfect time. With my heart racing, I turned and said...

Me: "Um, excuse me. Can I ask you a really odd question?"

Bernadette: "Sure."

Me: "Do you know who John Doe* is?" (* Names have been changed to protect former co-workers.)

Bernadette: "What's the last name?"

Me: "Doe."

Bernadette: "Hmm, I don't think so. Where does he live?"

I explain to Bernadette that he lives in Fort Myers, Florida, but he used to live in Cincinnati, and maybe he lived in NYC too. As I was talking, I could see there wasn't the faintest bit of recognition. 

My first thought was man, I feel so bad for John. He's not at all memorable to Bernadette!

I explain to Ms. Peters that I must have been mistaken and then I sit back in my chair and decide to leave her alone.

But then, Bernadette asked me if I used to live in Fort Myers. She wanted to talk...to me!!! She also asked about what I was doing in New York, about my husband's job, what my name is and even asked what nationality that is. We literally spent the next hour gabbing! She then totally gave me the inside scoop on all the best places to eat in NYC and about her upcoming performance on the TV show Smash. We were besties for the day.

It was the Coolest. Day. Ever.

As we were wrapping up our mani's (side by side of course) my heart started pounding because I wanted to ask her for a picture. I again observed my surroundings and decided that since we were the only two in the salon, I wouldn't create a frenzy of fans also wanting to get pics. So, I said...

"I want to ask you something, but please don't hesitate to say no if you don't want. But I would be mad at myself if I didn't ask. Can I get a picture with you?"

Bernadette: "Sure, why not? You can show our afternoon of girls gone wild." She then laughed.

Love that. We took a picture and it came out blurly, so Ms. Peters agreed to take another. 

We wrapped up at the drying stations and I did what any starving writer does. I handed her my business card and told her to check out this blog. Ha! Maybe she's reading this now??

Oh and by the way--I found out later the story about Bernadette and my former co-worker is just a rumor that has been circulating throughout the Fort Myers newsroom for about 12 years. But hey, it got me an afternoon with an award-winning actress. Not too shabby.

Why are New Yorkers so rude?

If there were hidden cameras capturing my every move a year ago or so, you would have seen me telling a girlfriend something like this....

"I would never live in New York. The people seem so rude there."

How did I know this? Well, there was the ONE time I had visited in 2009, and everyone was super rude. Well, that's not entirely accurate. It was really only actor Anthony Michael Hall, who told my girlfriends and me that he was NOT willing to take a photo with us because he hadn't shaved that day. Yeah, whatever.

Hot Chocolate = Nice New Yorker

Other than that, I actually remember super friendly people, including a woman who stopped me on the street to ask who made my dress, because she thought it would be cute for her bridesmaids. And then there was the very sweet bum, "Hot Chocolate" who danced in a conga line with all of us. (See pic)

Yep, that was the extent of my experience with NYC.

But, it's just common knowledge, right? If you asked anyone across the country to describe New Yorkers in one word, I'm guessing most would say "Rude."

Can I tell you what's happened in the past 1/2 hour to totally squash that?

1. A man just held a door open for me while giving me a head nod AND a "good morning."
2. A woman at the bus stop told me it was "nice to meet me" after we bonded while just missing (and running after) the M66 crosstown bus. And when the next bus came, she insisted I get on the bus first. 

Can you believe this rudeness?

Let me just take a stab at what gives New Yorkers this reputation. We move and walk quickly. That's because we likely need to catch this traffic light...so we can catch that bus...to catch the next subway so we don't miss the ferry, and well, because of that, we move faster than anyone from say, oh I don't know, Akron, Ohio.

So, here's your mission. Stop badmouthing New Yorkers, or else "you's are gonna find yourselves sleeping with dem fishes."

Duggar Family Baby Annoucement

Scrolling through my Facebook news feed this morning, I had to laugh at this post...

Perhaps it's my cynicism after years of working in television news, or instead just my general smart aleck personality, but I then posted this response...

Later I updated my thoughts to this: "If the Today Show really knew me, they'd know I'm much more "excited" when Honey Boo Boo drinks her go-go juice or the Situation takes home a grenade."

Here's the thing: I like reality TV as much as the next guy. In fact, I'm downright giddy over tonight's finale of the Bachelor. But I try not to watch shows that either a) showcase the decline of the human race or b) reward people for questionable behavior. You know which ones I'm talking about: Toddlers and Tiaras, 16 and Pregnant, Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo, Jersey Shore...the list goes on and on. I guess I'm what you'd call a reality show elitist.

Now, granted...the Duggars seem like a very sweet and loving family who have saved a boatload on birth control. And kudos to them for being able to remember 19 children's names that all begin with "J." But I'm not sure we should give a reality TV show to people just because they've had 19 Kids. Isn't that, oh I don't know, about 15 too many? (Ouch, I know. I'm preparing for nasty comments as we speak.)

How about this idea to shake things up...why don't we create a new show for the Duggar kids where they are forced to dress in leopard prints and "poofs" before competing in a Jersey Shore-style beauty contest. There will be three parts to the competition: body shots, grinding and t-shirt time. The least grenade-looking kid wins!

I like it...