Population Statistic: Read. React. Repeat.
Thursday, July 13, 2021

I’ve already mentioned how modern-day adulthood involves clinging to youthful habits.

So the notion of young adults graduating from college and moving into urban dormitory-style urban housing should come as no surprise. Rather, it’s a visible expression of a trend.

There is nothing new about having roommates in New York City. What Ms. Falcon has invented is a full-service dorm, full of strangers she has brought together to share big apartments as a way to keep housing costs down. Her approach is a homegrown response to the soaring rents bedeviling desirable cities like New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles.

Ms. Falcon, an informal agent for the building’s owner, says she has placed nearly 150 young people there and in two other buildings in the neighborhood in recent years. A gregarious Californian with rainbow-colored braids, she pieces together roommate groups like puzzles. Each tenant ends up paying $700 to $1,200 a month.

No word on if monthly keggers are covered by the rent.

by Costa Tsiokos, Thu 07/13/2006 11:56:48 PM
Category: New Yorkin', Society
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A funny anecdote told to me today at the office:

A couple of coworkers commute into Manhattan from Suffolk County on the Long Island Railroad. They don’t do so very often — between work travel and telecommuting, these two women make it into the office about once a week.

Recently, while sitting together during the ride in, they noticed a twitchy guy looking over at them periodically while scratching a pencil against a paper pad. It didn’t take them long to figure it out: An aspiring artist was sketching his fellow riders.

The first reaction from the women was that of violation. Who gave this weirdo permission to use them as models? Maybe there was a vague feeling of the primitive tribal fear associated with image-taking and soul-stealing. Somehow, a line had been crossed.

As the ride continued, and the artist continued to mark up his page compulsively, the women’s sense of violation gave way to a different feeling: Curiosity. In a strange twist, the perceived inappropriateness of the situation changed the focus of the unintended still-life models.

They didn’t like the looks of the drawer, so they didn’t want to ask him outright for a peek at his work. But eventually, he laid down his sketchbook while reaching for his overhead bag, and the ladies got a few seconds’ worth of a gander at their likenesses.

The result: According to them, the sketch looked like it was scrawled by a five-year-old. Any anticipation over how they were rendered — did he catch the highlights in one’s shoulder-length hair? — were dashed.

So the attitude went from violation, to curiosity, to disappointment. All in the space of a commuter train ride.

by Costa Tsiokos, Thu 07/13/2006 11:45:51 PM
Category: Creative, New Yorkin', Society
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Today, I lost count of how many compliments I got on the bitchin’ tan I acquired this past weekend. From both women and men — universal appeal.

How much of a boost did all this praise give me? While walking down the street this evening, some girl behind me blurted out “Hello, handsome!”, and I spun my head around. When I saw she was talking into her cellphone, I did blush — but hey, with this tan, I don’t think anyone noticed. Score!

Skin cancer? Sun poisoning? Solar addiction? Bah! The ego-stoking is more than adequate compensation.

by Costa Tsiokos, Thu 07/13/2006 11:03:39 PM
Category: General
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