HAY Center Slope, You Ready for a New Neighbor? [Movin' on Up]

So, tomorrow marks one week until the keys to my new place are in my hands--and I'm officially a center-Sloper.  (Don't worry, Gogo, I'll still captain the South Slope decathlon team; I'm only a few blocks above 9th.)  Yes, the lease was signed (DISH. WASHER.) and as I begin my intrepid trek from my quiet South Slope place that's dangerously close to one bagel place up to my new studio alarmingly closer to yet another bagel place, I'd like to pay homage (and say FU) to the things I will no longer be right next to.

THINGS WHOSE LEVEL OF AWESOME IS UNFUCKWITHABLE 

1. Roman's Shoe Repair.  I've already written about how great Roman is.  So great that he doesn't mind that I come in one-shoed to his shop once a week, and he fixes my broken heel on the spot.
2. The Double Windsor.  I don't like bars.  And I love the Double Windsor.  And I love them even more because they hate your kids after 5pm as much as you do always.
3. Anthony's and Fueng Far. My patronage of these stupidly delicious establishments will not diminish, but I'll be bummed they're not a stone's throw away.
4. Terrace Bagels.  If I really need to tell you why I will miss living fifty yards from Terrace, congratulations, you've officially skipped every entry I've ever written for FIPS.

THINGS MY FORMER ROOMMATES CAN GLADLY KEEP, PLUS OTHER FITTING EXPLETIVES

1. P&E Market.  Why that lady is so fucking mean when I patronize her every goddamn day I will never understand.  She is lucky I am too lazy to walk down PPW to another market.  Screw you and your $7 box of cereal. 
2. The Pavilion.  We've dealt with this already.  
3. Sud's [sic] on Eighth.  Your machines swallow my quarters and don't apologize.  Neither do you.  Once, I saw you make a little girl cry.
4. "You don't live in Park Slope."  Yeah?  Well, Greenwood Heights doesn't exist, either, so shove it. 

Admittedly, I'll still basically be in a ten block radius of my current place, and I'm just as game to head south for awesome stuff (FIPS PARTY AT THISTLE HILL PLZ?) as I am north, but ten blocks is quite the nabe change (and extra 3 minutes of sleep) pour moi.

ALSO!  Hunting for real estate fucking sucks.  Melissa from T.B. Shaw makes it epically NOT suck.  FIPS endorsed.  Blogger receives no compensation for incredibly biased review.