Okay, here is my "How To" piece.

I know it's a little long to read on a blog. But please let me know what you think.


How to survive in the Lower East Side with little to no steady income


You’re an artist. A musician. A poet. Or a student. And you think you want to live in the Lower East Side. It is possible. But you must throw out many inhibitions and all frivolous spending habits. Forget the clean suburban life to which you are accustomed. Here is how to survive in the Lower East Side with little to no steady income.


First, you will not need, or want, a car in the city. Sell it. This will pay for the broker’s fee on your new apartment and hopefully will leave you with enough money to pay the deposit and first month’s rent. Expect to pay about two thousand dollars for a five hundred square foot apartment. It will be essential to share this apartment with someone else. Never mind that it is a studio or one-bedroom. Ikea sells bunk beds for about one hundred fifty dollars. The bathroom, undoubtedly, will be about the size of the bathroom in your parents’ Winnebago. But you will learn to love brushing your teeth in the kitchen sink since it will be the only sink in the apartment. Also, you will become very dedicated to washing dishes promptly (or promptly for you anyway).

In the L.E.S., hardly any apartment building exceeds six stories. These buildings will not have elevators. Therefore, look for an apartment on the sixth floor in a walk-up building. There will be a significant discount on these apartments and you will not have to join a gym. (Also, you will be able to recognize other sixth-floor-walk-up butts around the city.)

When furnishing your apartment, walk the streets of the L.E.S. and the East Village. Garbage is set on the curb to be taken off by city sanitation. You will find many miscellaneous treasures – last month’s edition of Black and White Magazine, a U2 CD (“Don’t they know ‘Achtung, Baby’ is a classic?”), paperbacks written by Toni Morrison, Bertolt Brecht, and Kierkegaard, shelves, tables, chairs, desks, lamps. Avoid furniture or items that could spread communicable diseases such as sofas, mattresses, linens, rugs, shoes, or clothing. (Courteously, leave the clothing and shoes for your homeless neighbors.)

Taxis will be completely foreign to you. You will see this mode of transportation as an unnecessary luxury only to be enjoyed when you hit the mother load and either a.) your first novel is published, b.) your band is signed to a label (But not an independent label. One like Capitol or Sony.) or c.) your proposal is accepted by the NEA. Your chosen mode of transportation will be walking. Invest in a new pair of Chuck Taylors. On the odd occasion that you foresee yourself venturing out of the neighborhood over fifteen times in one month, buy a monthly Metrocard for the subway. You save in bulk.

At all costs, avoid any encounters with a particularly furious breed of monster known as the Upper East Sider. While some of these monsters might be harmless and downright amusing, others – predominantly the ones that are twelve to seventeen years old – could be extremely hazardous to your belief in the inherent good of every human being. These creatures may carry a Louis Vuitton handbag and the newest iPod. You will recognize them immediately if you overhear them calling their mother a bitch for only giving them an allowance of five hundred dollars a week. At this point, it is best for you to leave the area and find a cute baby or dog on which to concentrate.

The water in New York is remarkably clean – some of the best drinking water in the country. (Although, the pipes that it flows through are often corroded and rusty.) Though you have never been one to drink from the tap (which you attribute to the widespread outbreak of cryptosporidium in your hometown years ago), convince yourself that if there are any microscopic organisms in the water, drinking them regularly will probably boost your immune system. Initially, you may buy a water filtering system but, without fail, the filter will need to be replaced about the same time that you are struggling to feed yourself. Therefore, you will disregard the faint hint of iron or chlorine in the water. You will quickly realize the benefit of drinking from the tap in the summer months after the six-floor hike to your un-air-conditioned oven.

Though you may love sushi, you will soon understand that the cost of three rolls is equal to about six slices of cheese pizza and far less filling. When food is a commodity, buy a large cheese pizza. A large pizza will be cut into approximately eight slices. Cut each slice in half. You now have about sixteen slices of cheese pizza and, consequently, sixteen meals.

Also, the coffee stand on the corner sells huge bagels for fifty cents. Ration the bagel, eating pieces intermittently throughout the day. This fifty-cent bagel will give you a sufficient amount of carbohydrates for you to function for about a twelve-hour period of time.

Though it may stifle your creativity, a part-time job may be essential to your survival. The list of jobs that you could choose from varies. You could be a nanny. Or a paralegal. Or a dog-walker. If you are a musician, you could panhandle. But be aware that the panhandlers in the subway stations must audition. If you do not have a proper license to perform in the subways, you will be fined and could lose next month’s rent money. If you have the means, print various t-shirts with slogans like “Legalize Marijuana” or some anti-Bush propaganda. You could sell your wares in Union Square, on St. Mark’s Place, or in Astor Place. NYU students frequent these places and are most likely to purchase the type of merchandise you are selling.

You must make a friend that has a steady income. Though you think you may not have much in common with an accountant or an investment banker, this friend will occasionally feel sympathetic to your plights and cook you a warm meal, take you to a movie, or give you a concert ticket. Ideally, this friend would live in Greenwich Village, Soho or Tribeca and would rent the apartment of your dreams. The more time you spend at their place, the easier it is for you to pretend that their stuff is yours. Do not, however, wear out your welcome. They will become your ace-in-the-hole.




Do I need more of an opening and closing? Talk to me people.