Feng Shui

It's sort of sad how a "television event," such as tonight's Sopranos season premiere, can cause New Yorkers to spend an unseasonably warm Sunday evening at home in front of the tv instead of going outside and actually, you know, doing something. This explains why the city was a total dead zone after 8:00 pm tonight. The only people out were the cabbies, the cops, and the garbage men, as well as a few random stragglers and tourists.

The Hustler Club (shown above) certainly had good reason to be closed, and there was a strange absence of shady characters outside the Port Authority Bus Terminal. I guess everyone, including the regular strip-club patrons, the loiterers, and the homeless, managed to find their way to a cable-equipped television tonight.



Notable events of the night: Not many actually. I got stuck for 20 minutes on Mott Street (seen above) and renewed my utter and complete hatred of New Jersey and its "drivers." They are usually the ones to blame for my traffic woes, especially this evening, with Holland Tunnel traffic on Canal overflowing on all possible side streets. If I were king, I would close the tunnels completely and say good riddance.

When I finally got out of this mess, I picked up a Feng Shui instructor who was visiting from San Francisco. Feng Shui is the Chinese art of placement, which means that where you put stuff in your house is important and helps with your "flow," or something like that.

We started talking and I said, "I read somewhere that if you put money in the northeast corner of every room in your house, it's supposed to increase your money flow. Is that true?" He replied, "Actually, it would be the southeast corner, since the sun rises in the southeast and has the most energy and pull in the morning. And you should really only do it in a room where you pay the bills or take care of business. You can also use stuff other than money, basically anything that signifies abundance in your life."

I responded by saying, "Well, in my apartment, that would be cat hair." Then he said something that I didn't really catch but sounded like something to the effect of, "Yeah, that would [something inaudible] your pussy." I was a little taken off guard and just paused for a second before saying, "Um, what?" But I guess he didn't feel like clarifying because he just said, "I have a dog."