On Williamsburg

In addition to seeing poor movies on Friday night, I also ventured to Williamsburg for dinner with folks. Now, this was my first time in
Williamsburg as a civilian (i.e. not as part of a Lubabvicher youth mission--"Excuse me, are you Jewish? Do you want to be?"), and I
don't know. I think the part we went to, around Bedford Ave (jeez, I was at the complete other
end
of Bedford today), was the nicer, more expensive portion, and it was pretty nice. And certainly less expensive than anything in
Brooklyn Heights. And there were girls, girls with piercings in places that didn't make them look too revolting--the girls with revolting
piercings probably inhabit points east.

But I would grow to hate the L train more than the F (which I really have no legimate reason for hating, as I never ever ride it), and it would fuck over my commute. So no Williamsburg. I think there are plenty of girls with piercings in Boerum Hill.

Oh, and if you happen to have $500k, that's what they're asking for my current apartment as a condo. Which sounds like a lot, until
you factor in the antique kitchen table that comes with the pad. It really ties the room together.

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