Contingency Plan
Penn Station offers us everything we need.
The plan was, if indeed your landlord or management company decided to raise rent to the proposed horror-show twenty-five percent, which has already happened to a few very unlucky individuals (give up that dream to live in Hell’s Kitchen. right now), Penn Station was going to offer us two unfortunate hobos succor, respite from the cold cruel world, the ability to stay clean and dry and hopefully rot-free unlike my neighbors in the crevices of Central Park. A life free of hypo needles, chicken wing bones, discarded poopy diapers, and billowing translucent condoms.
Let’s see. Our choice of bookstores, a la food for the mind. You got Penn Books on the lower level, with their AC frigid blaring freezing you out before you can even reach for a book. Then you have the Book Corner on the upper level, close to your favorite Zaro’s Bakery. And now food for the body, food for food’s sake, something to eat while we dream of better days. You got your fair share of fast food—KFC, McDonald’s, Subway, Nathan’s, Pizza Hut, a slideshow of gallbladder diseases and possibly extractions.
Zaro’s, of course, where the Filipino ladies have now become your new BFFs. Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name.
It’s a veritable transportation hub. The gateway to the west side of Manhattan… and New Jersey, and Long Island. And Boston, Philadelphia, Washington. The gateway, in total, to the whole Eastern Seaboard.
During inclement weather, we never have to see the murky light of day. Ever.
And the public restrooms could be the perfect locale for a sponge bath.
And then, there it was, on the COVER of the Wall Street Journal. It seemed unobtrusive enough, the story of a real estate developer, one Mr. Christopher Ross. And then, three paragraphs later, the contingency plan shot to hell.
Apparently, Mr. Ross has two big real estate plans underway. One for Los Angeles, and the other for midtown Manhattan, our own fair fucking Penn Station/Madison Square Garden. The plan calls for the razing of Madison Square Garden and neighboring buildings, and the expansion of Penn Station to the current James A. Farley post office adjacent to the Garden.
What will become of our contingency plan? Where will we go if the west village and the upper west side send us on our ways? This, dear reader, remains to be seen.
The plan was, if indeed your landlord or management company decided to raise rent to the proposed horror-show twenty-five percent, which has already happened to a few very unlucky individuals (give up that dream to live in Hell’s Kitchen. right now), Penn Station was going to offer us two unfortunate hobos succor, respite from the cold cruel world, the ability to stay clean and dry and hopefully rot-free unlike my neighbors in the crevices of Central Park. A life free of hypo needles, chicken wing bones, discarded poopy diapers, and billowing translucent condoms.
Let’s see. Our choice of bookstores, a la food for the mind. You got Penn Books on the lower level, with their AC frigid blaring freezing you out before you can even reach for a book. Then you have the Book Corner on the upper level, close to your favorite Zaro’s Bakery. And now food for the body, food for food’s sake, something to eat while we dream of better days. You got your fair share of fast food—KFC, McDonald’s, Subway, Nathan’s, Pizza Hut, a slideshow of gallbladder diseases and possibly extractions.
Zaro’s, of course, where the Filipino ladies have now become your new BFFs. Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name.
It’s a veritable transportation hub. The gateway to the west side of Manhattan… and New Jersey, and Long Island. And Boston, Philadelphia, Washington. The gateway, in total, to the whole Eastern Seaboard.
During inclement weather, we never have to see the murky light of day. Ever.
And the public restrooms could be the perfect locale for a sponge bath.
And then, there it was, on the COVER of the Wall Street Journal. It seemed unobtrusive enough, the story of a real estate developer, one Mr. Christopher Ross. And then, three paragraphs later, the contingency plan shot to hell.
Apparently, Mr. Ross has two big real estate plans underway. One for Los Angeles, and the other for midtown Manhattan, our own fair fucking Penn Station/Madison Square Garden. The plan calls for the razing of Madison Square Garden and neighboring buildings, and the expansion of Penn Station to the current James A. Farley post office adjacent to the Garden.
What will become of our contingency plan? Where will we go if the west village and the upper west side send us on our ways? This, dear reader, remains to be seen.
posted by hobos in space @ 9:13 AM
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