Tuesday, August 15, 2006

we have the same coffee order

The other day I said I didn't know why I moved, but I do know why I moved. The place is mine all mine, it is the least I've ever had to pay for rent, and because it was formerly occupied by my friend I didn't have to go through the whole apartment search process. Effort is for losers. Also, after seven years in Manhattan, I thought it might be interesting to live elsewhere. Ever the adventurer, I moved just across the East River and can still walk to work on the Lower East Side. Anyway.

My neighborhood is odd. It's the Deep South of Williamsburg, a buffer zone between the hassids and the hipsters. Unlike Williamsburg Williamsburg, my little area down by the river is largely unincorporated, so there are none of those New York conveniences like running down to the deli for a Power Sandwich (OMG have I never told you about Power Sandwiches?? Someday, my children, someday.) at 4 a.m. and the subway is a hearty 10-minute walk away. The only place to get coffee in the morning is a quaint faux country store/cafe/restaurant, and I can often make it there seeing just one or two people out and about.

But, of course, times are a-changin'. There are two new condo buildings going up on my teeny tiny block and one already in business up the street, and I've spent a lot of time wondering who the hell is going to be living there. I enjoy a nice river view and organic produce as much as the next gentrifier, but if I had enough money for a condo, I'd get one with more direct Power Sandwich access is all I'm sayin'. So who the hell is going to be living there?

Back to the coffee. So, obviously, all fifteen people who currently live in my immediate vicinity get their coffee at Marlow. One morning there were film crews all over the place outside, so I wasn't terribly shocked when a C-lister took the place behind me in the coffee line. I was a little suprised, though, when I saw him again the next day. And the next day, when he carried his iced coffee with soy milk and designer dog into the condos across the street. Say hello to my new neighbor!

UPDATE: EEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I read about a restaurant called Pies-N-Thighs when it opened up whenever-ago. I thought to myself, I would like to go there, and then I thought that I would never bother to go find it in the hinterlands. I just discovered that it's, like, practically in my house. And check out that winning endorsement for their pulled pork. I can't even begin to describe my love for pulled pork. Can't wait to reconnect with my Fat Jeans.

5 comments:

P/O said...

i love that marlow and sons misspells williamsburg on their website...

Gina said...

it is truly special.

they do make a mean greek yogurt and homemade granola parfait though...

octagonal said...

I live equally south and a bit east from you but probably work within 5 paces of your apartment. South Williamsburg is quite charming once you factor in the incessant hisses and smoochy noises as well as the hasids simultaneously cursing you and jizzing beneath those long black coats.

Once I saw a bum take a runny shit in front of the condos you speak of. (Nothing smells more like gentrification!)

And I think Busta Rhymes has an apartment or two in the Gretch Building (the giant one across from Marlow).

But seriously, welcome to the neighborhood.

alexa said...

wow. it's the attractive guy. obviously not a possibility, but nice scenery. i actually was excited when the link took me to the queer eye site because i thought you might be living near the cooking guy. the cooking guy always seems like he was sarcastic and witty, and liked food, and i always thought he would be the one i could be friends with, but this one is second best.

Gina said...

yeah if it were the cooking guy i would've peed my pants. i love him. and i wouldn't mind having the interiors guy do a number on my apartment. kyan seems a little cheesy, honestly. but he was really excited about a muffaletta sandwich one day and i can certainly appreciate that.

and thanks, octagonal! i'm already all too well acquainted with homeless men's runny shits from living in the east village so i think i'll be just fine here. and busta!