Manhattan Offender

Past, Over - When the piers were old and oxycontin was new

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, April 26, 2007.

"Hello?"

"Wrigglerump? Is that you?"

"I would think The Past would recognize my voice by now."

"Sorry. I'm a little groggy. Took a Percocet."

"Your recreational drug use—"

"Listen here, Judge Mental. You go and get hit by a cargo van on the West Side Highway and see if you don't want to take a pill or five."

Past, Over - Florent, from club kids to kids

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, April 5, 2007 .

"Hello? Who is this? It's six in the morning."

"Sorry, molestiemouth, am I waking you up?"

"Well, no. I'm actually on the way to the gym and having breakfast."

"Jim is such a d class name... but hey, I'm eating too."

"Nice. Nothing starts my day like a protein bar."

"And nothing ends mine like moules frites at Florent."

Past, Over - Earl of Astor, merchant of porn

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 29, 2007 .

"Hello?"

"Cuddlecrotch! I'm calling you from a pay phone, because I keep forgetting to tell you about this guy that's perfect for you."

"You're setting me up on a date?"

"Nah, I don't really see you with Earl."

"Earl who?"

"Earl, the guy who sells porn on the street."

Past, Over - The peeps at the peeps

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 22, 2007 .

"Hello?"

"Twinkletwat? You awake?"

"Yeah. Something in the air or something. Just can't sleep."

"You're probably not getting enough sex."

"Must you go there?"

"Sorry Prudy Huxtable, but you know I'm probably right. When I can't sleep, I blow off some steam in a peep booth."

Past, Over - The whores of York (and Madison and Lex, too)

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 16, 2007 .

"Hi."

"Hey there, nymphobraniac. I'm having such a bitchin' week! You won't believe it, but..."

"Sorry, but I don't have time for The Past right now, man. I'm on the way to the office, and I'm late already."

"Woo. An office? How lame. Dude, you should work from home."

"If stuffing envelopes would pay my rent, I'd totally go for that."

"That's not the kind of stuffing I was thinking of. Baby, you should be a whore."

Past, Over - Roxy as Brigadoon

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 8, 2007 .

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Um, The Past?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. You usually insult me right off. I didn't recognize you."

"Well, sorry, um, dummy."

"Dummy? That's not the aggressive type of retort that I've come to expect. You okay?"

"I just heard a rumor that The Roxy is closing."

Past, Over - Pot Smoke Linger(ie)s on Second Street

Sometimes I receive telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.  Originally posted at Gawker, March 1, 2007 .

"Hello?"

"Heh. Um. Do you, uh, have Prince Alfred in a can?"

"Let me guess. The Past?"

"Dude. You're so fun."

"Gosh, um..."

"Psych!  You're not. At all. But I still love you. What's up?"

"Just sort of waiting for my dealer to call."

"Oh, how long ago did you beep him?"

"Beep him?"

"Yeah. You beep your dealer. As soon as he can get to a pay phone he calls you and tells you when he'll be coming by. Convenient if you're in that 'too-paranoid-or-wired-to-leave-the-house' mode, but not really preferable to just going out to get what you need."

"Like going to the dealer's house?"

"I would never send you to a crackhouse."

"We don't have those so much anymore, although there is the occasional meth lab."

"Meth?  As in crystal meth?  Are you in New York or the Ozarks?  Insane. Do you ever go to The Lingerie Store?"

Repeating "The Past"

Gradually, I've brought over all the content from Gawker over to this site.  Last but not least is "Past, Over".  There will be one per day until they all are represented on this site. 

ADDENDUM:  The posts that used to have my name as author?  Now have the name "false".  I'm certain of no malicious intent, but damn (!), if anything could be harsher, I am unsure.  False!

Future, Tense

Have I really not written about this?  Ugh, what a busy couple of months.

First off, Past, Over ended at Gawker.  Not that anyone wanted it to do so other than myself.  It was reaching a point where I was running out of topics.  In its place I proposed that instead of The Past calling, now The Future would call.  I've created a landscape of a New York circa 2018, exponentially extrapolating current events in local and national news.

But don't call it a feature.  The key thing about everything at Gawker is that it must always be reporting.  Past, Over told the story of what some 1990's icons of New York have become.  Future, Tense tells of potential outcomes of the present.

This week's installment tells of the Bleecker Street Mall.  On a random afterwork stroll with a friend, the changes in this area were striking.  Brash and vapid women filled the streets with shopping bags in tow shouting out, "Oh my god" like a poorly trained macaws of fanciful plumage.  As we walked down the street we noticed all the shops that evoked excitement from the shoppers.  And began to make parrot noises at them.  The experience stuck in my head and evolved, in part, to this piece.  (Other influences include riding a Colonial Transport van with Jason Preston and Sex and the City shooting near my office recently.)

Past, Over: Tunnel Bar

This week is dedicated to my first boyfriend, Juan Sosa.  He brought me to my first gay bar, with no real agenda other than to visit with a friend of his who was bartending that night.  Juan was this beautiful emotional guy and in our three month relationship there were hospital visits, kicked-in doors, and apartment makeovers. 

Someday I'll tell more, but for now it should be known that I will always feel Juan around me.  And I totally don't believe in that type of thing.  But I do.

Juan Sosa (1960 - 1995)