Artworld Asshole

Astor Place had been filled with shiny new buildings made of glass and chrome, all of them containing high-end art galleries. The streets had become crowded with gallery people--all of them with nasty, superior attitudes. I felt snubbed every time I walked through Astor Place.

After being snubbed and cut off too many times, when a man in fedora and trenchcoat cut across my path, I became irate. I screamed after him, "You cut me off? Fuck you, you artworld asshole! I'll shove a blowtorch up your ass and blow you straight to Hell!" He kept walking.

I hoped that using this course language would embarrass all the artworld people who wanted Astor Place to be a place of refinement.

--JM

Spank the Monkey

Last night I dreamed that I wandered past the former location of Estroff Pharmacy on 2nd Avenue, between 8th and 9th, where I used to get my prescriptions filled (and which is currently under construction). A new business had gone in. The entryway was decorated with memorabilia from the old Batman TV show. I went inside to investigate. In what looked like a crappy office, preppy young men in crisp suits sat around a table. They leaned back in their chairs.

"What is this place?" I asked.

"Welcome to Spank the Monkey," said one, grinning. "Also known as The Grab Ass!" The men laughed conspiratorially, proud of their creation. They invited me to go inside and check it out.

Behind the office was a small bar decorated to look like a suburban basement, the kind of place where teenagers can hang out without Mom and Dad interfering. Wood paneling, crappy couches. The bar was filled with frat-boy types and leggy fashion models. Everyone was dumb and talking about dumb things. One girl was complaining in a loud voice about designer jeans. I was appalled and kept trying to sneak pictures of them to post on the blog.

--JM

No One Was Injured

I dreamt that someone painted over the Joe Strummer mural on the side of Niagara. And when I saw it--while inexplicably riding a bike the wrong direction on Seventh Street--a new mural was in progress. It was black and purple and looked like a bruise. And it was going to be Ronnie Wood of the Rolling Stones.

I took photos and hurried home to post the photos on my blog. I was in such a hurry, I didn't stop at the site of a construction accident. (No one was injured.)

--E.V. Grieve

Gas Station Art

I dreamed that the closed gas station on 8th Avenue at Horatio Street was reopening because the owners were able to renegotiate their lease.

They were clearing out the rubble of the old gas station to make way for their renovations. Amid the ruins were bunches of original drawings for classic movie posters, including Star Wars. The woman who created them was trying to save them--many had been damaged by the elements. She wanted her artworks to be preserved. But the businesswoman in charge of the gas station's renovation didn't care, she just wanted everything cleaned out and tossed away. The two women were in conflict about the movie poster art and kept fighting over it, with the artist crying and begging while the businesswoman bossed her around. I stepped in to mediate between the two of them and was able to help them come to a compromise of some sort.

--JM

Yankee Catacombs

I've dreamt I've been wandering the catacombs of old Yankee Stadium, walking into and around old musty rooms no one has visited for decades, finding all sorts of arcane baseball stuff, furniture, equipment, uniforms. I loved that old place.

--Peter

Back to Meatpacking

I dreamed I went back in time, to the Meatpacking District before it was "MePa," before it was a luxury shopping and partying destination. The buildings were all made of brick and covered in graffiti. I had my digital camera and became very excited to take pictures of everything.

There was more, but that's all I can remember. I often have this dream where I go back in time to an older New York City, armed with my digital camera, and I become very anxious, running around trying to get pictures of every detail.

--JM

7th St. Ghost World

My dream starts off with me walking down East 7th Street between 1st and A. It's early evening around Christmas time and they have all those wreaths and lights up, but there are no fancy restaurants or overpriced boutiques. I'm talking to a friend who works at Otherworldly Waxes and then I cross the street. The scene changes and it's summertime and I'm petting the cat that lives at Mikey's Pet Shop. I start to walk back up toward 1st Avenue with the cat following me, then the cat and I cross the street again and we're hanging out with two little kids whose parents own an herb shop (I think it was called Penny's).

I remember that I'm supposed to be at work (at Nemesis--other end of the block), so I leave and start back down the block, but when I get there the store is gone and there is a fancy salon in its place. I have no idea what's going on.

Maybe I'm a ghost living in a ghost world of a long time ago or maybe I'm going crazy. I decide that I didn't want to go to work anyway and I cross the street and walk into the park.

--SS