“Shut the front door” it read as I was walking out, the sign drew me in. As I looked closer I began to read that it is illegal to leave the doors and windows open in a shop if the air conditioning is on. The fines start at $200 for the first infraction, and go to $400 for each additional violation. I do not understand anything here. Due to the NYC heat law I have to leave my windows wide open, so all the heat is pouring out into the street, but if it is air condition, I am breaking the law. Makes sense doesn’t it?
Something else that is bizarre, is the preparation of bagels. There is no sales tax on the sale of whole bagels but if you buy a bagel, altered in any way, the bagel will have a sales tax of 8.875 %. New Yorkers really take their bagels seriously!
Digby and Chevy are getting used to going to the bathroom on the sidewalk. They had issues at first because they don’t see any grass. There are signs in the tree planters that say “Curb your dog”. The PH of the urine I guess will mess with the foliage? I brought two bags with me, one for each pup, for our walk-through central park. Digby decided to use the bathroom twice. I had to quickly scurry away because, as you might have guessed, NYC city law states that you have to pick up behind your dog. As I ran away, I could see the judgment of the New Yorkers, but I was not about to pay a $250 fine for poop!
Don and I went apartment hunting yesterday. Our apartment is fine, we are just looking for something better. There has got to be something better! Like the real New Yorkers, we are we had to work with a rental broker. It’s like a real estate agent, who only deals with rentals. If they find you an apartment you pay them an absorbent amount. No one likes them, but it’s pretty standard to not be able to find an apartment without one. We saw in total five apartments. The first one in a shady part of town that was old and tiny, but had two closet sized bedrooms. The second in a busy, noisy area with a 6-floor walkup. In true NYC fashion they were not just normal stairs, no, these were made as a torture decide. The stairs were in a narrow stairwell with large individual steps that gained elevation with each one. Saying these stairs were steep in probably an understatement. Obviously, I am out of shape, but by the 6th floor I thought I might actually need medical attention. I was hoping after all that trouble the apartment would be worth it, it was not. The third apartment was even hotter than our current apartment, with windows that don’t open. The fourth apartment was perfect, but the price was more than told up front. The fifth apartment was in a busy area, but surprisingly quiet. The unit while hot, had windows that opened and had an AC unit. The apartment did not have an oven. There is no way Don could survive without an oven to cook with, he is already missing his grill to much as it is. The apartments that do have elevators, make you want to take the stairs. The elevators are half the size of normal elevators. I told Don this could very well be the place we die. I took the stairs down.
Don and I went home with a new-found appreciation for our tiny, ground floor, almost bearable with the windows open, little dogs that won’t stop barking, Upper West Side, apartment. Don was on a mission. He fixed the broken shower head and spent hours working on the stove. The oven had been broken since before we moved in, the landlord was very up front with us about this. Of course, Don was able to fix it he fixes everything.
I enjoyed a nice hot shower and a home cooked meal for the first time since we left Memphis. Just when I thought our tiny NYC apartment was starting to feel like home, I bent over in the bathroom and burnt my butt on the radiator pipe!