Posts Tagged ‘drunks’
another city
A few shots from the 11103, here in the NYPD’s 114th precinct.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As expressed in last week’s posts, a humble narrator has had a whole lot of stuff going on. Details, things to do, meetings… the usual “blah blah blah” of the daily round. Our Lady of the Pentacle announced that she was going to be heading over to the Shining City for a social engagement last Friday evening, but I had already made plans to meet with a NY Times photographer to discuss his intentions for a series of essays on the harbor of NY and NJ at my “district office” – a pub called Doyle’s Corner found at the Times Square of Astoria at 42nd and Broadway.
My evening began with a trip to the local bank to deposit and withdraw, and along the way – a genuine articact of the pre digital world was spotted sitting on the sidewalk at the aforementioned Times Square of Astoria – an IBM Selecrtix typewriter.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This brand and model of typewriter was the weapon of choice for business and professional writers during the 1980’s and early 90’s. It used to cost hundreds of dollars (which would translate into thousands these days) and was a highly coveted device. Today, it’s an analog artifact, and relegated to the corner trash pile. The hand written price tag on it, and the nearby proximity of a thrift store, allows me to hypothesize that it was likely liberated from sale utilizing the “five finger discount” method. Further supposition would suggest that the thief soon realized that there is little or no market value for a typewriter of this sort in 2015.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A few quick shots of it were captured, and a paramount in my mind as I was gathering them was my pal Kevin Walsh of Forgotten-NY, who would have likely been swept up by a nostalgic wave at the sight of the thing. One continued up to Steinway Street to accomplish my banking, and then I headed back to my “district office” for my meeting with the NY Times guy. A few chums from the neighborhood also stopped by, and several pints of beer were consumed. While this mild debauch was underway, the burning thermonuclear eye of God itself disappeared, and the usual passion plays of Broadway ensued.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The fellow pictured above appeared in front of the sidewalk cafe table I was sitting at, asking for a dollar while claiming he was hungry. He wasn’t hungry, instead he was blind drunk. He decided to lecture me, in fairly good English I would add, about the differences in generosity between the Mexican and American people when refusal to part with my dollar was offered. He’s one of the population of drunks who have been plaguing the neighborhood in recent months, incidentally, and a familiar face. He announced “Soy es un burracho” and tried to find a more generous person to give him a dollar.
Soon, he collapsed onto the sidewalk and surrendered to his inebriation. Remarking to myself that he had the wrong idea about Americans, I flagged down a passing FDNY hook and ladder truck and informed them that they had a customer. An ambulance arrived, and carted him off to a hospital where he would sleep it off.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At home, later in the evening, one was hanging out with Zuzu the dog when that amiable canine began to utter a low growl. Coming from the sidewalk below was a string of Spanish curses, “puta madre” and the like. That’s when I noticed this fellow literally crawling home via the gutter.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After an interminable struggle he managed to right himself by hand holding parked cars, which were alternatively vomited and urinated on as he headed north. As mentioned at the top of the post, a humble narrator is the first one to suggest enjoying a few pints of beer. It would be hypocritical of me to say that getting a bit drunk isn’t an enjoyable yet occasional diversion. The photos of the drunks which I’ve been sharing with you, lords and ladies, are not of casual passerby who happen to be a little “effed up.” These are serial offenders. The guy in the shots above, well, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him crawling through the gutter on his way home. The fellow passed out on the sidewalk who wanted a dollar? Same guy you see in the final shot of this post.
What we’ve been experiencing in Astoria, here in the 11103, is more than a bit over the top. This is a siege.
Just another Friday night, here in the 114th precinct, thought I.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Upcoming Tours –
October 3rd, 2015
Calvary Cemetery Walking Tour
with Atlas Obscura, click here for details and tickets
darted curious
Just a quick one today.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another one of the many, many drunks here on Astoria’s Broadway greets you today.
A humble narrator is a dollar short and a day late to the table, and accordingly a single shot from the 11103 greets you. Back tomorrow with something more substantial.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Upcoming Tours –
October 3rd, 2015
Calvary Cemetery Walking Tour
with Atlas Obscura, click here for details and tickets
parched and terrible
Hello 114th precinct, it’s me again.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Since my last post on this subject, concerning “Los Borrachos” on Astoria’s Broadway, the 114th precinct has definitely been doing “something.” Can’t say exactly what, but the population of these alcoholic mendicants has been visibly reduced from the mid July high of 20-25 down to a late August bakers dozen. The shot above, and several of the ones following it, were gathered at the Times Square of Astoria – 42nd and Broadway – which is the central muster point that these fellows use, just last weekend.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
NYPD continues to inexplicably roll right past these guys, however. What sets me off, incidentally, and what has made these inebriates rise to the top of the list of “things I have to deal with” are reports from the ladies of Astoria as to the comments they are offered while passing by this crowd.
Even passing familiarity with the old “espanol” is enough to piece together sentences and phrases from the lingo which include “chupa” and “mi penga.” Sexual harassment of women walking down the streets by a drunken crowd of vagrants… is that OK?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A Sunday afternoon, and public drinking is not challenged nor noticed by the cops. Everyone else in the neighborhood notices it, as people move to and fro with their children. If you’re curious, that’s Vodka that fellow is drinking.
Gordon’s Vodka to be precise, an assertion of brand loyalty which is based on the empty bottles littering the curbs along Broadway. The Times Square of Astoria indeed, only it seems to the Times Square of the 1980’s around these parts.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The effects of the alcohol reduces these fellows to an insensate condition, regularly. For all of you “City Club head up your ass liberal” types who seldom walk the streets of New York – preferring your Uber or Limo for getting around – Progressivism isn’t about permissiveness. This is not something which Eleanor Roosevelt would have reacted to with any sort of empathy. John Lindsay or David Dinkins, on the other hand…
Don’t get me wrong here, I like a good tipple as much as the next guy – more so in fact. It’s the fact that this situation has gotten completely out of hand this summer, and whatever your intellectual notion is of who these guys are is completely fabricated from your own politics. These are bums, drunks, and hobos. We have a decent number of Homeless people here, who are referred to as “The Harmless.” Mostly down on their luck or mentally ill folks, Astoria takes care of its own – whether it’s just a slice of pizza or a bottle of water or a buck slipped into their palm.
The fellows showcased in these posts get off the R train, drink in the neighborhood all day, and then commute back to somewhere else if they can still keep it together enough to do so. If not, they just pass out on the sidewalk.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Often, Astoria’s Broadway looks like a WW1 battlefield, with bodies arrayed haphazardly on the street. The shot above was from a Friday afternoon around 2. All that’s missing is a dead horse in the tree.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A smoke condition down in the Subway drew the FDNY to the Times Square of Astoria last Sunday, whose actions and blaring sirens served to awaken the sleepers from their distillery dreams. Other units of FDNY would undoubtedly be back on the corner later, to scoop up the insensates. NYPD?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Three in the afternoon on a Sunday.
The funny thing about this shot is that a friend of mine who works for the City spent years working on installing these Subway grate covers (intended to keep snow melt and storm water from infiltrating down to the tracks), which were specifically designed with the idea that they would be fairly impossible to sleep on.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Notice that white car with the blue stripe just at the edge of the shot above?
Guess which uniformed and highly trained branch of City Government drives white cars with blue stripes. Why, 114th precinct, is this being allowed to continue? Do you really want the civilians in this neighborhood to be the ones to deal with this, as we currently are forced to? A day doesn’t go by when one of us is forced to shoo “Los Borrachos” off their stoop or out of a driveway. Often the only thing which will get them to move on is the threat of calling “La Policia.” The Police, however, seem reluctant to lance this boil.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Upcoming Tours –
September 3rd, 2015
Newtown Creek Boat Tour
with Open House NY, click here for details and tickets.
September 20th, 2015
Glittering Realms Walking Tour
with Brooklyn Brainery, click here for details and tickets
unknown things
114th precinct, I’m talking to you.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Broadway in Astoria is a lovely stretch of small shops and restaurants which are enjoyed by the largely working class population found hereabouts. Sure, there’s noise, bad actors, crime and all that – no different from you’d find along any commercial strip in the City of Greater New York but our local gendarme does a pretty reasonable job of keeping a lid on things. Luckily, Astoria is somewhat self policing, and there’s so much going on at all times that no one thing can ever really become a paramount concern.
What we’ve got a lot of, however – which the local Bulls inexplicably overlook – is public drunkenness and vagrancy.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At 42nd street and Broadway, where you’ll find Tsigonia Paint, a colony of alcoholic vagrants has set up shop and have been present in this area for several years. Once upon a time, there were three of them, which became six, and now there’s around twenty regulars. Before any of you Columbia University people crawl up my back and announce that your liberal sensibilities are offended by this post, or opine that I’m some sort of caveman, let us first define the fact that these fellows aren’t homeless – they are in fact bums. How do I know this? Because unlike those of you in the Ivory Towers of scholastic solemnity, I’ve actually talked with them and learned their names and stories. The fellow in the shot below who is standing up is a tragic figure named Andres, for instance.
Not a week goes by that somebody in the neighborhood doesn’t have to threaten to call the police to get these guys to vacate a residential driveway, stoop, or doorway. For most of us it’s common practice to just step over them as they sleep one off. They inhabit this corner, and you’ll observe them composing a small fraction of the day laborer population that hangs around Tsigonia Paint hoping to pick up work. Nothing wrong with that, of course, a man has to work. These guys, however, aren’t here to work – except on their buzz.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve sat and watched patrol car after patrol car roll right past scenes like the ones depicted in today’s post. It has been pointed out by me to various neighbors and elected officials that this is the sort of thing which can kill a neighborhood. Government people have said to me that these drunks will not be arrested, and that the best I could hope to happen is that the cops will harass them a little bit in the hopes of getting them to move on.
One corrosive effect that the presence of these fellows in the neighborhood has created is generally transmitted to other Spanish speaking immigrants, 99% of whom are not just productive but SUPER productive members of the community, which is an ugly consequence.
Since it seems to be completely fine for drunks to congregate hereabouts, a population of heroin addicts has recently claimed the corner of 41st street and Broadway (at the Queens Library) for their turf. That’s what I mean about “corrosive effect” btw.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The shots above and below you’ve seen before, lords and ladies. The fellow in the shot below was personally rescued by your humble narrator back during the epic cold snap in February, when he fell asleep in front of my house and was turning blue as he froze to the sidewalk in front of HQ. A quick call to 911 saw FDNY arrive and take him off to Elmhurst Hospital. I ended up having to help the two EMT’s get him onto the stretcher, as he was fighting them.
NYPD? Never showed, not on their radar.
Is it legal to get drunk and pass out on the streets of Astoria with an open bottle of booze in your hand?
How about shitting in the street? Is that ok as well?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Seldom am I confrontational with NYPD officers, I would point out. Whatever the current political vogue is regarding them, I nevertheless have a terrific amount of respect for the badge and personal relationships with both on duty and retired officers inform as to how much crap they have to endure during any given workday.
Why, however, doesn’t this obvious “Quality of Life” issue merit their attentions? Is it because of Compstat? Is it something political? Is this some of that “vibrant diversity” that all the politicians go on about at work?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
What shreds me is that people have to walk their kids around these vagrants, and explain to them why some man is drunkenly crapping between two parked cars. For these kids, this sort of thing is normal.
114th precinct, I implore you to do something about this problem before we begin to slide further back into the chaos of the 1980’s. I promise that I will vote for anybody else than the current Mayor in return.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Upcoming Tours –
August 8th, 2015
13 Steps Around Dutch Kills – LIC Walking Tour
with Atlas Obscura, click here for details and tickets
human resemblances
7 things that suck about Listicles. – which all suck.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
New Years Eve is an event eschewed, but one can be observed reluctantly engaging in a bit of socializing on the date at the urging and insistence of Our Lady of the Pentacle. Pleasant company notwithstanding, the holiday demands ribald acts and sophomoric reminiscing for a series of less than sublime moments which played out over the prior twelve months, and the celebratory ritual carries a certain expectation or promise of convivial warmth which it seldom delivers. Vast quantities of intoxicating liquors are usually on hand, and observation has revealed this particular holiday to noncoincidentally be a savager of personal relationships. New Years Eve often ends up being one of the saddest nights of the year, as one person or another falls into a dark psychic state as they recount victories and failures past.
For one such as myself, who enjoys the art of self recrimination, the “year in review” brings on naught but angst and existential horror – but I’m all ‘effed up, so there you go.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Perhaps it’s chronic sleep deprivation talking, but I’ve never experienced a good New Years Eve Party. One year in Connecticut, a friend and I spent the night chopping down a tree out of boredom, which was in fact the most fun I ever had on the date. I look forward to the long dark months between now and Saint Patrick’s day, an endless progression of cold and sunless days punctuated only by varying degrees of ice and storm. Can’t you see it? Stretching out before us like some vast bank of fog that obscures and occludes the horizon? A black dog that runs alongside of you, as you reach for a distant point in the gray haze – where warmth and light might be found – that always seems to be moving away from you no matter how fast you approach?
The black dog waits for January to beg for treats, and will more than bark if denied.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Worst of all… the resolutions and vows will be uttered by all – to shed body weight, break bad habits, or to start newer and uncharacteristically wholesome ones. Prayer and desperate pleas to other dimensional omnipotences will be offered, by zealots and drunkards and the mothers of sick children. Lovers and friends will swear false allegiances, idiots will pull off their shirts and drunkenly stand in the middle of the room screaming “HOOOYAAAA” when the clock strikes midnight. Enemies will embrace and kiss each other. When these petitioners and claimants find themselves awakened to the cold realities of the year 2015, as the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself rises in the sky once again on the first day of the first month… Sigh…
It’s all so depressing.
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