Who Gives A Shit?: Valentine's Day Specials

Image via thepilver.wordpress.comPark Slope Valentine’s Day Specials ain’t so special. You can listen to a string instrument while you and your partner turn yourselves into human pretzels or paint pots and sip champagne or simply get rubbed. I certainly don’t want to have to exercise on Valentine’s Day. I’d rather smoke pot than paint one and I’ll rub myself, thank you very much. Really, it’s enough with the coupling specials on V-day!

Reservations for Park Slope restaurants are probably booked up already. If you do manage to get a reservation, there will hardly be any babies out so you won’t even feel like you’re in Park Slope. What’s the point in that?!  There’ll be nothing but couples shoving oyster and champagne specials into their pie holes until it’s finally time to relieve their babysitter and take old one eye to the optometrist

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Who Gives A Shit: Do you like watching TV in bars with strangers?

Photo credit: Freddie Moore for airshipdaily.com

Lately, it seems like every cable show from Mad Men to Game of Thrones gets the viewing party treatment in bars all over the city. According to The Airship, there were at least two Breaking Bad finale events in Park Slope alone:

I arrived at Union Hall for the premiere screening of Breaking Bad’s final season at 8:34 P.M., four minutes after doors had opened. The bouncer asked whether I was there for the screening or for dinner, and as soon as I answered, he told me, “We’re filled up to capacity. People have been lining up since 6:30 to get in for this.”

With roughly 20 minutes to spare before the premiere began, I attempted to speed-walk a mile to Halyards, the nearest bar I could think of that was also screening Breaking Bad. A couple outside warned me about the crowding, and although Halyards was letting people in, the audience was packed in so tight that viewers were squeezed right up against the projector screen. Everyone had staked their spots. There literally wasn’t any room.

This does not sound like fun to me, at all. Just imagining the epic shushing that must go on at these events makes me break out in hives. What about you? Have you ever gone to a bar to watch a TV show? 

Who Gives a Shit: Waiting on Line For the Latest Craze

Photo via Dominique Ansel's Twitter

Growing up, I remember being all like "WOAH" when I heard tales of peeps in the USSR waiting in lines for HOURS just to get a sack of potatoes or a pair of jeans or a roll of toilet paper. Some thirty years later, I'm all like "WHOA," as here in NYC, we've long since destroyed them commies & moved on to create our own early-morn queues for fanciful, five dollar, Frankenstein pastries known as cronuts.

Since the cronut's introduction at Dominique Ansel Bakery about a month ago, the hybrid croissant-donut has garnered so much buzz that sheep start lining up around sunrise for a chance to be one of the lucky folks who get their hands on a couple of that day's 200-or-so cronuts. People have scalped them on Craigslist for up to $200 for five. It's f'n ridiculous. Shit...I can get ten beamers for that price on Craigslist. As such, the treat's developed backlash at a pace that makes The Strokes look like a long-beloved band.

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WHO GIVES A SHIT: HAVE YOU EVER SUBLET YOUR APARTMENT?

So have you ppl ever sublet your apt? Like, for a year or two, I mean?--Not the whole Airbnb scenario.

And if so, did you use a broker or did you do it yourself. And if you did it yourself, why?? (i.e. were you able to get a bit more cash cause there was no broker fee?).

What did you do for a lease (like, are we supposed to find this shit online?)

And finally, was your apt destroyed? 

Thank you Park Slope for solving all of our real estate conundrums. Ready, set, go (in the comments). 

Who Gives a Shit: Should Landlords Disclose a Recent Death in the Apartment to prospective tenants?

Because there are so many old buildings in Park Slope, there's a pretty good chance that of the thousands of tenants that came before you, one of them kicked the bucket within the walls of the place you call home. Whether or not the souls of the dead haunt your 100 year-old cast iron clawfoot tubs isn't the real question here, though. It's whether a landlord should disclose the information to prospective tenants when the previous one has JUST passed away inside the apartment. We recently received this email from a loyal FiPS reader who wonders the same thing about a unit in her own building:

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