Top 10 Boxes o' Band-Aids

Many a Band-Aid for the NYC pedestrian—34, to be exact.

Box o’ Band-Aids #1: When fellow cross-walkers in Midtown tap one on the shoulder and say, “Miss, um, you’re bleeding,” then point to two gaping heel wounds, it’s time to pop into the local Walgreen equivalent Duane Reed’s, where one will spend most of her time whilst in New York if foolishly having chosen to wear new flats for extensive walking excursions.

Box o’ Band-Aids #2: Bartenders really should get more respect for the genuine skill it takes to know multiple names for every drink ever conceived, be able to make every drink ever conceived, AND simultaneously remember all their customers by name. But if one really wants to stump the bartender, find three friends with the same name and open tabs at the same time. Then observe the inner genius of bartending mnemonics when her tab reads one of the following: Jessie. Other Jessie. Amaretto Jessie.

Box o’ Band-Aids #3: On a quest for A.A. Milne’s original Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animals in the “Humanities and Social Sciences Library,” be prepared for the following embarrassment with the information desk clerks.

“Is the ‘Human Social Sciences Library’ the same as. . . this? [Inside the foyer of the New York Public Library. By the lions]
“This is all the Schwarzman Building.”
“Oh, well I’m looking for the Human Social Sciences Building. Where is that?”
(Flabbergasted, sputtering effervescence) “You’re IN it!”
(Still confused) “Oh. Ohhhh. Well, you see, I’m looking for the original Pooh animals.”
“To the right, downstairs all the way, left, and they’re in the Children’s Section.”

Therefore: New York Public Library = Humanities and Social Sciences Library = Schwarzman Building

Box o’ Band-Aids #4: NYC has not quite jumped on the recycle wagon given that every night the streets are lined with full trash bags waiting for trash pick-up in the morning. Walking home late at night amongst moving trash bags is a tad disconcerting.

Box o’ Band-Aids #5: The term “bridge and tunneler” is a disdainful term used to refer to the commuters living in Queens, Brooklyn, or anywhere that is not the smallest of small New York islands, Manhattan.

Box o’ Band-Aids #6: Separating the posh from the plebian is a well-honed skill for the NYC hotel doorman. Cutthroat, too. How do they sleep at night knowing they kicked out book-lovers on a pilgrimage to the Library Hotel, home to rooms with themes coordinating with the Dewey Decimal System?

Box o’ Band-Aids #7: Even after five days, one can never really figure out the mysteries of what has to be the most complicated metro system in the world. When you ask for a free subway map from an always-busy attendant, be prepared to be handed a map the size of a small area rug. Not to mention, the lines are all numbers—as are most of the stops. And for added jollies, one has the choice of taking a “local” vs. “express” train—the local train has more frequent stops. But you wouldn’t exactly know this looking at your area rug, unless you know the secret code of filled-in circles vs. open circles. And may godspeed and force be with you from the transport gods on a weekend with service changes.

Box o’ Band-Aids #8: Apparently Sunday nights around midnight is a popular time to ride the subway. The confusion and excitement about getting a train may or may not cause one to drop a cell phone running to catch a train, look feverishly for all the missing parts amid doors closing, people pointing, and general franticness. As the train speeds away, sure enough, there lays a cell phone battery mingled in the garbage and rodentcide between the tracks. Fortuantely for you, this is New York, where cell phone stores abound, and upon requesting a new compatible battery, the sales clerk acts as if the year-old phone is a lost-to the-ages Egyptian artifact.

Box o’ Band-Aids #9: For whatever reason, every city seems to have one patch of metropolis obstructed with every crane in the city’s construction fleet. These crane swarms are rather frustrating for their general unsightliness. I stand by my assertion that a family of cranes giraffe-ing around a city skyline is . . . an eyesore. Though perhaps exclaiming that sentiment should be used rather sparingly in NYC, as it is highly likely you could be gazing upon the construction site that is the gaping wound of the World Trade Center—a wound that no amount of Band-Aid boxes can heal.

Box o’ Band-Aids #10: New Yorkers have a peculiar method for cross-walking. They walk determinedly in their course, stare down the red “Don’t Walk” hand, and stride out into the white paint a good two feet or so before planting themselves rather decisively nearly a third of the way into the crosswalk to wait for the walk signal. This is a city in which a few steps ahead make all the difference.


Most Wanted List: Flip-flops

New! Crump-It-Up List: (inspired by those inevitable bar sing-alongs) “New York”—Alicia Keys, “Bad Romance”—Gaga, “Livin’ on a Prayer”—Bon Jovi, “Can’t Fight the Moonlight”—LeeAnn Rimes, “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters”—Elton John, and “Imagine”—John Lennon.

Newest cocktails concocted by Jessie Edwards and Jessica Hoover; request them today at your bars and stump your bartender whilst spreading the new cocktail revolution.

Mulberry Beatle: Cranberry juice, melon liqueur, and amaretto
Gotham Martini: Vodka, Curacao, amaretto, cranberry juice, and a dash of lime juice
Black Hole (prepare in shot glass): Vodka, Curacao, and the tiniest splash of cranberry juice

Many thanks to expert subway navigator local Uppah East Side (yo) tour guide, and HarperCollins’ newest publicist Jessie Edwards for touring me around the concrete jungle!