Ms. Synge's Neighborhood or Hell's Kitchen: It Ain't Just a Myth if You'e a Pig!

I'm tired of writing about and living with pesky 'ol cancer as an everyday entity. He really cramps my style, and frankly bores the shit out of me. I've had it, okay? So for now, I'm trying to completely ignore his existence in our lives (and in Maman's body) in the completely unrealistic hope that he'll just go away. Yes, I've personified cancer...he's actually a pretty funny character. But I won't tell you about him. Not today. Because that would be acknowledging him, and I've already written the word cancer far too much for someone who's supposed to be ignoring its existence. Why do you make me do these things? Sneaky internet!

Today I thought I'd take you on a little tour of my neighborhood and show you some of the interesting sights I see every day as I head into work because I love you and I wanted to share my world with you. Also, I was procrastinating my actual arrival, and this lovely idea popped into my head. Damn convenient, huh? What was inconvenient was that I don't own a digital camera smaller than my head, so I was forced to use a crappy cell phone camera instead. First up, we have one of many hooch houses. These are the most important landmarks in my world, and luckily, there seems to be one almost every 5 blocks. We like our booze here in Hell's Kitchen, and we even have about 9 bars to go with every alcohol emporium. We also have all the hard core drunks hanging around Port Authority threatening to vomit on you as you head into work at 11am, but hey, that's just one of the things that makes the neighborhood so special.

Oh, and by we I probably mean me. Except for the vomit part. I hope.

Here we have the awesomely addictive 99 cent pizza shack. located conveniently right beside the farmer's market, so the dueling signs advertise farm fresh produce and 99 cent pizza. Guess which seems to always be more popular? This place is open 24 hours, and in the wee morning hours you are guaranteed to find at least one bonafide crackhead hanging around trying to score a slice. Its total crap, but WB and I like it better than any of the brick oven pizzerias near us. Its the crack, of course.
Its amazing how much more you see when you stop to photograph the roses in life....things that may have escaped your attention before as you rushed about your day. And weren't you really actually kind of lucky for that? I've passed by this meat market (no I'm not being euphemistic, its literally a meat market) every day for some time and only realized today the grotesque horror which lay within. Yes, folks, these are actual pigs' feet. And they look like actual little piggy feet....decapitated piggy feet! This little piggy went to market, only there he got chopped up and his little feetsies put on display to make innocent folks just passing by upchuck the 99 cent pizza they just scarfed down! No one warned me the rhyme ended like that!
When I think of the finest in American cuisine, two main things spring to mind. Yes folks, here they are together at least, the culinary king and queen, united for your dining pleasure. (and Zagat rated to boot!)
And last but not least, we have the creepy evil pig which hangs out outside of Rudy's Bar. He's clearly a vagabond and up to no good...cavorting with the creepy clown from Circus bar a block or two up. He'd better watch it, or he's gonna be sent downtown a few blocks....to the market....need I say anymore you evil piggy in a bellhop disguise? And as one would certainly ascertain by the friendly smiling paper mache pig welcoming everyone inside, this dark chamber of horrors then serves up free hot dogs to go with their cheap beer.

The lesson of today's little jaunt is that clearly the hell in Hell's Kitchen ain't no innocuous name....if you're a pig.

And I clearly need a fabulous digital camera that takes wonderful pictures AND is smaller than my head.

[hint hint hint......]