I CAN'T GO ANYWHERE IN PARK SLOPE!

ONCE upon a time I was known as the "mayor of park slope." I even had a sheriff.
Every night I would comb the streets looking for trouble. My shift was 5pm-5am. Nurse Hours. long hours. unforgettable hours. I got to know a lot of people/places/things:

gays, hags, straights, gays scared straight, O'connors, homies, homeless, regulars, regulators, long tan, bartenders, barstools, strollers, fences, guitar players, card players, great lakes, rooftops, 200 5th, bagels, trendoids, headbangers, and of course huggers.


I didn't officially resign, and I don't know who took my place, I would rather not.

But when I hit the streets I can't go anywhere without someone wanting to buy me a drink. (this is highly exaggerated.) and of course this leads to a drunk mayor. 3 pints at the gate,




a joint and a six pack on a rooftop, another couple at the smack shack (aka Cattyshack), another at the sheep station (australian for beer), chips and salsa at Calexico, and stumble my way home.

And Stumble my way home....
stumble..
home.


NO wonder I have been hanging out in Williamsburg a lot lately.
I don't know ANYONE!!


Photo of PARK SLOPE: Union and 5th Avenue: once the seedy underbelly of Park Slope. Now gentrified and thriving.

(click to enlarge)


*flower/beer photo taken at the gate by Teeny. Concept by Nyki.
* Park Slope photo by Forklift (Flickr). Caption by Teeny.