I lived in Brooklyn for 54 days. My apartment had no gas, it was Winter, life was terrible. No furniture either. I can’t afford that sh*t.
From 9a-8p I worked in TriBeCa because that’s what New Yorkers do. Then I’d take the J train 15 stops east, walk a half mile past the drug dealers on Jefferson, and microwave a can of chili. While waiting for dinner I’d spin up the $20 space heater provided by my mob boss landlord.
That was the good part of my day.
Real life began at 9:30p when I watched Seinfeld bootlegs in bed and ate sodium and felt sorry for myself. When I awoke 6 hours later there was usually a dirty bowl in my passenger seat (other side of bed) and a spoon snuggling between my sheets. Sometimes I reused bowls without washing because there’s extra flavor in fermented beans, broth, enzymes, cow, etc.
This is all true.
Thanks to a Frenchy roommate I learned about the NYC Rights of Habitability. I became mini-lawyer Saturday, Feb 23 and wrote the most epic email ever to the mob bosses.
Got all my money back, invested in $TSLA / $CRLRF / $MNKD / $GSVC and doubled it.
When life gives you lemons, give them back.