Ah, an evening walking trip in New York City. What delightful sights can be seen?
There are adorable little boutiques in the Meatpacking district-some of them still in business! Others are having a, uh, let's call it a "fairly aggressive" sale?
On Sixth Avenue and 13th Street, someone else is having a sale! At 90% off. For six more days. Until the lease is out. At which point no one will be moving in.
And, just around the corner, on adorable 13th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues, there are gorgeous townhouses... some of which are being hastily unloaded without real estate brokers?
As a gentle summer breeze whistles through the empty streets, spinning the urban tumble weeds from CVS and Key Foods past the intrepid wanderer. "Warriors," he sings, "Come out and plaaaayaaaay."
I can't wait until this recession is re-branded by frustrated property brokers. "For Sale" becomes "Real Estate Opportunity!" and "90% Off" becomes "Pay only 10%!"
Pretty soon the Indians will buy Manhattan back with the same beads they sold it for.
brill.
You and Peggy Noonan, as one!
HAHA, it is sadly TRUE!
Second Avenue in 1972: From Eighth Street down to Houston there was maybe three stores open. Everything was closed down. You were able to get any sized store for $75 a month â€" landlords were begging you.
My first visit to NYC was as a teenager in the 70s. And as I travelled down empty, garbage-strewn, pot-holed avenues from Grand Central to the then-cool post-industrial Soho, the city seemed like an enormous, vacant warehouse. And I sort of wonder if we're headed back that way. All it takes is a riot and a dream.
Agreed. What's more, the fabulous Mall in my town is now like a Mercado! It's fun. They're bargaining! At the "Hoochey" store, I said no to a half-price blazer because it was still insanely over-priced, and they cut the price another 30%. Sale! So, this recession. I'm as much in debt as ever but I've got ten times as many clothes to show for it! Awesome. Also, shut up 18-29 coveted demographic. You ain't buying those stupidly cut blazers at the Blurberry that show off your pert asses so well, because that store was about to pay an old person like me with a droopy ass just to get it off the rack.
There ought to be a German word for the indescribable sense of infinite sadness mixed with wicked pleasure that this New Depression Walking Tour arouses in me.
Yes. An economic hurricane will carry the trash out to sea. I've been sad about this stuff since January.