Yesterday I woke up and saw a small tent outside my window and immediately had a panic attack that they were having one of those goddamn street fairs on my street. After further investigation I confirmed that they were actually just filming some new sitcom with nobody famous on my street and the tent was a craft services tent, but explained to the production crew that they gave me a panic attack because I thought they were setting up a street fair right outside my apartment. One of the craft services guys asked me what my problem with street fairs was and I said that street fairs are amazing if you like irregular tube socks, olde tyme pretzels, "mozzarepas," corn on a stick, and small potted herbs and enjoy pretending you're in a cartoon where the scenery repeats itself every 50 feet. Street fairs are also key if you like street closures and cab rides that take an extra 15 minute and $12 extra because the cab driver didn't realize all of Murray Hill was blocked off from traffic so that people can buy Hard Rock Baja sweaters from 1990 and greasebag funnel cakes. Let me just say that if there is EVER a street fair on my street, I will be setting up my own stand that sells gyros, cotton candy, irregular underwear, pretzels, bajas and crystal vortexes and put all these other ridiculous stands out of business once and for all.
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3 comments:
Omg i loooooooooovvvve mozzarepas; i always buy one when they have a street fair near my apt
I'm on Midtown on 6th Avenue in which there is a Street Fair everyday almost. I feel bad for the Daily News, who never has anybody come to their tent. The BEST booth is obviously kettle corn.
um, I think I win the terrible street fair contest. 11 days of guidos, dirtbags and otherwise unruly, disgusting people wandering Mulberry Street ... also known as the Feast of San Genaro. The stench that develops on my street is a lovely combination of sausages, vomit, peppers, vomit, fried dough, vomit and beer. For good measure I allow myself one serving of fried oreos per feast. Good thing I am a Jew as Rosh Hashannah usually lands itself somewhere in the middle of the feast and I can escape for a hot minute.... 11 days is just too damn long. My doorman, however, loves the feast, it breaks up the monotony for him.
http://www.sangennaro.org/
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