That time a real estate broker stood me up and then hit on me

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I showed up at the apartment at the requisite time, having confirmed yesterday. The broker was nowhere to be found. I shot off a text to him.

Three minutes later, he called. “What apartment are you trying to view?”

I gave him the address. “Oh,” he said. He paused. “Just buzz any number and someone will let you in.”

“Um, what? This is really weird.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Are you buzzing? Someone should let you in.”

It was noon on a Tuesday. No one was home. Also, as non-threatening as I look, really?

“Hang on,” he said. “I’ll be there in seven minutes.”

Eventually, he showed up. “Sorry, I wrote you down for tomorrow,” he said.

I’ve perfected the art of not saying it’s okay when it’s not, so I said nothing.

“Are you Jewish?” he asked. “You look Jewish.”

The apartment was actually nice. But I had a bad taste in my mouth.

“Where do you go to synagogue?” the broker asked me as we were leaving.

A letter to Dr. Richard Liebowitz, president of New York-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital

strangers in New York,

In November, I sent the below letter to Dr. Richard Liebowitz, president of New York-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital. I had the opportunity to stay in his hospital after I lost consciousness and hit my head at the library in July. I informed him that I would be posting this letter on December 5th in the event that I did not receive a reply. That is today. Enjoy!

Dear Dr. Liebowitz:

I now live every day in fear that I’m going to get another bill for my hospital visit during which I waited three hours for a single 10-minute consultation. The care was lackluster—near the end, I sat for thirty minutes holding a cup of my own urine, because nobody came to take it from me—but the zealousness of the various billing departments from which I have now received four bills totaling $1,500 is certainly commendable.

I am thirty and self-employed, and I am paying these bills out of pocket. I am happy to pay for care I actually received, but these bills do not seem to be associated with any real service. I have spent hours on the phone with various billing departments asking for a simple rundown of for what I am paying, and none could provide me with any reasonable explanations. One billing associate even told me, ”I have no idea what this is for.”

I have paid the fourth of these bills hoping desperately that it is the last. I hope that more than I hope to never faint and hit my head in public again, because lord knows I’m just walking home and refusing all treatment if that happens—I know that I will receive neither a diagnosis nor satisfactory treatment and will then be slammed with hospital bills for what feels like infinity, so I’ll just wait it out alone and hope I don’t die.

It is also important to note that this fourth bill came from the office of [NAME REDACTED], to whom I was referred for a follow-up during my visit. I find it extremely concerning that this physician presumably consulted on my case, although I never met him, and then suggested a follow-up appointment to reread the same chart, provide me with the same opinion, and charge me for a second visit. (I did not schedule a follow-up.)

I am writing this letter to inform you of how patently absurd, upsetting, and irresponsible your hospital and my experience with it have been. I would appreciate it if you would review the bills associated with my visit on July 25, 2018, and inform me as to whether you believe the care I received is of commensurate value to the amount of money that, again, I am paying out of my own savings account. In the case of your lack of response by  December 5, 2018, I will be posting this letter, including the name of the hospital, to my social media accounts and blog.

I look forward to your prompt reply.

Addendum:

I recently had the opportunity to consult the medical record from my visit and noticed several errors. The most glaring of these is that no medications are listed under my history or home medications. I don’t recall anyone asking me about my prescriptions, but if she had, I certainly would have told her that I do, in fact, take a medication regularly.

I find this lack of attention to the detail extremely concerning. Once again, I look forward to your prompt reply regarding this matter.

Brett Kavanaugh

Grassley = Voldemort

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And other stream-of-consciousness reactions to Brett Kavanaugh’s confirmation hearings. (A brief sampling, because I’ve only made it through four hours so far.)

• Grassley: American hero for scheduling a hearing.

• Grassley = Voldemort

• Grassley: “Dick Durbin is my friend so that negates all the horrible things I’m about to say blaming a victim of sexual assault.”

• Whitehouse for president, just because I was born in Rhode Island.

• Olivia Benson would not stand for Rachel Mitchell’s whole deal AT ALL.

• Good job trying to stump a psychologist with a question about her factors for anxiety.

• Who cares if she has other factors that contribute to her anxiety? How does that prove or disprove the veracity of her sexual assault?

• Cory Booker is so cute.

• Booker has a new campaign slogan: Christine Blasey Ford’s courage.

• I am shocked—shocked—that no one has read this carefully worded, so eloquent statement yet.

• Will my face get that bloated if I keep drinking into my 50s?

• Your words have meaning, too, and personally, I would try to ensure that at least 1/10 of them are the truth.

• Oh nice! Rhode Island gets a shoutout.

• Is that Alyssa Milano? I loved Charmed back in the day.

• Who is that pissed-off looking woman sitting behind Kavanaugh? (It’s his wife, apparently.) Doesn’t look like she believes a word of this bullshit.

• Of COURSE you’re an only child.

• You’re tearing up about the lies you tell your ten year old. So excited that you’re a father.

• I wouldn’t brag too hard about your service to Bush. You know what people think of him, right? I know he’s off painting in a meadow, but people are still dying in the wars he started.

• Brett crying about his dad keeping diaries made me think his dad was dead, which still isn’t an excuse for him raping someone. Turns out he’s not. I’m so confused. Why is he crying about his dad’s diaries?

• Brett took the SATs, therefore he’s not a rapist.

• “Going to church was like brushing my teeth.”

• Guess lawn-cutting wasn’t like brushing your teeth?

• “I had lots of female friends, and they all have white-girl names.”

• “I am lying so hard about this yearbook reference and not in a very sensical way.”

• Centralmaine.com: journalistic integrity since white people were alive.

• Look at all the privileged-person experiences I have had. I went to Madison Square Garden.”

• His wife looks like a super pissed Maura Tierney.

• “So sad, I will never be a little league parent ever again. This ruins my WASP dreams.”

• “Just so ya know, Senator Feinstein, I know you’re a woman so I’ll yell at you.”

• “Sorry to interrupt, but you’re a Democrat so I don’t care at all.”

• I kept diaries in high school too. Are they evidence that I did or didn’t rape someone?

• Crazy coincidence: We took BAC charts to parties at my school, too.

• Did he keep the BAC chart in his diary?

• Leahy = MVP

• Lindsey Graham: “I would never do to Kagan and Sotomayor what you’re doing because we had a minority then. See asterisk: Merrick Garland.”

• Kavanaugh is defending himself worse than I did when I hid Flinstone vitamins under my dresser when I was six.

The Bachelorette

Can Trump wait until The Bachelorette is over to make his life-ruining announcements?

Strangers outside of New York,

Blake was opening up to Becca just as Trump announced that he was selecting Ken Starr’s second in command as his choice to prevent women from making their own medical choices.

The Bachelorette was already ruined for me when I learned about the frontrunner’s racist, transphobic, and school shooting survivor-mocking social media history. (It’s, like, really bad.) Note that I intentionally used the passive voice because I’m not blaming any one person. There’s a collective responsibility on the part of ABC, Chris Harrison, and each contest to make sure that I can forget about the direction of this country for two hours a week. I watch this show to get away from this stuff, okay? So do better.

Now, Donald Trump has chosen to interrupt my supposed reprieve not once, but twice within a single month. First, he decided to meet with Kim Jong-Un just as Becca was composing a first-date love ballad with loose-cannon Chris and Richard Marx. #KimDon

This Monday, Trump ruined my life and my viewing experience by announcing his pick to wage war on my reproductive rights. (Sobering thought: All of our liberal dreams are now in the hands of Justice Roberts.) Here’s a link to donate to NARAL.

My one request is this: Mr. President, I know you’re out to get me personally, but can you just do so outside of the hours of 8:00-10:00 pm EST Mondays?

Hal the ladies’ man

Feminism is dead, strangers in New York, ,

As a new full-time freelancer, I recently made a coffee shop down the street my part-time office. It’s usually a pretty low-key experience, but you do start to see the same weirdos popping in there.

My favorite (read: nemesis), whom I will call Hal, is a man is his sixties. I’m not sure what Hal’s line of work is, but I do know that he is now the owner of an apartment, because he bought it in the coffee shop the other day. As in, he made his realtor come to the coffee shop and formally, loudly concluded escrow.
I also know the Hal is in the market for a female companion who enjoys “sexual recreation” above all other extracurricular activities. That’s because he was explaining this to a fellow customer whom I can only presume was a stranger to him. He’s had some positive experiences on Tinder, but finds that many women want to go out to restaurants and do things outside of the house. In other words, they want to go on dates. Hal, on the other hand, prefers to hang out in the bedroom, because that’s where he shines. He takes pleasure in “bedroom activities” above “outside activities.”
So, ladies, if you’re interested, I’m sure I can set something up. Chances seem solid that Hal will be a big part of my life in the coming weeks and months.
Mail carrier

Straight to the Point: Why Does the Mailman Eat Lunch in My Foyer?

strangers in New York

Mail carrier

A couple months ago, I was taking a staycation day and went for a run. When I came back, the mailman was standing in my apartment foyer eating a sandwich. The next week, I came back from a run, and the same mailman was there again. He wasn’t eating a sandwich, but he was listening to his iPod. Which leads me to a couple questions:

  1. Why was he listening to an iPod in 2017 (it was December, so no need to remind me that it’s 2018)?
  2. Why does he take his lunch breaks in my foyer, which is not very pleasant and rather chilly in the winter?
  3. Is this legal?

I’m writing about this now because I told my roommate about it the other day, and she was home today and told me she saw him eating in downstairs, too.

I’m not saying I care exactly, because he doesn’t seem violent, but it doesn’t seem like something he should be doing. It also makes me want to become friends with my neighbors, so we can talk about him. Has that ship sailed after living there for 2.5 years?

the Future is Female

#MeToo and My Trump-Related Panic Attack

Feminism is dead, Strangers outside of New York, ,

the Future is Female
My boyfriend got me this shirt on Etsy.

I just finished Hillary Clinton’s memoir, What Happened, and I would equate reading it to having a long panic attack. Do you ever have those moments where you suddenly remember that Donald Trump is president and want to kill yourself? That’s what this book is, wrapped up in a 500-page package. I’m not saying you shouldn’t read it. You should. I’m just saying, in the words of Scar (from The Lion King, duh, do you really need to ask?), “Be prepared.”

I do wonder how much different this book might have been if it were published a few months later in light of the #MeToo movement. For instance, would Clinton’s takedown of Matt Lauer be made stronger by the confirmation that he is a uniquely terrible predator, as opposed to merely a bad journalist? Might she have addressed her collaborations with Harvey Weinstein? (Probably not.)

I also wonder whether this movement would have had as much traction—or exist at all—if Hillary Clinton were our president today. Certainly the country’s overall tenor, and the fact that our commander in chief is also a high-profile predator, contributed to the rise of this movement. Am I saying that I prefer a Trump administration to a Clinton one? God, no. That’s like saying I haven’t awoken internally screaming every morning since November 9, 2016.

Still, I think about the time a college student from my neighborhood had his entire family die in an accident, and a former classmate posted on the obituary, “At least one good thing came from this: You know how much everyone cares about you.” I remember thinking what a weird and tone-deaf thing that was for someone to say. But let me try to follow suit by finding the positive in a sea of despair: At least Trump’s presidency has taught some of us (those italics are directed at you, Mitch “child rapists are better than Democrats, I guess” McConnell and Paul “this is what a jellyfish looks like and all the tax cuts” Ryan) how strong and resilient we can be in the face of true horror.

And Trump bragged about sexually assaulting women and then won the presidency three weeks later, so I doubt having an affair with a stripper or asking the FBI director for whom he voted are going to sway you, but to those who still support him, do better and also why?

What exactly is wrong with people that Roy Moore is a more appealing option than Doug Jones?

Strangers outside of New York, ,

Moore is a little younger in this picture than he is now, but still not of an age when it would have been appropriate to have sex with 14-year olds. Fun fact which apparently needs stating these days: It’s never okay to touch someone, no matter what his or her age, without consent!

In case you’ve been living under a rock, horror show of a dumpster-fire human Roy Moore, who is running for Jeff Sessions’s senate seat in Alabama and conflates homosexuality with bestiality, is also a child molester.

So, not only does Roy Moore say heinous things, but he also does heinous things!

Don’t worry, though. It’s okay because of Jesus. “Mary was a teenager and Joseph was an adult carpenter. They became parents of Jesus,” said Alabama State Auditor Jim Ziegler, defending Moore, I guess.

Now, I’m Jewish, so I could very well be mistaken, but isn’t that total bullshit? Isn’t Joseph not actually Jesus’s father, and didn’t they not have sex? Hence Mary being a virgin and all? I kind of thought that was a central theme of the bible. Either way, that defense is dumb. But please let me know either way, right or wrong.

Also, watch this clip of Trenton Garmon, Moore’s lawyer, just being randomly racist on MSNBC, I guess in effort to defend his client? Not sure even he knows what’s going on here.

Meanwhile, Doug Jones, who is finally leading Moore in the polls, but man did that take awhile, is an Alabama lawyer who prosecuted two Ku Klux Klan perpetrators of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing that killed four African-American girls. To summarize, normal guy who locks up child-murderers vs. gay-bashing child molester who wears a cowboy hat.

(P.S. I won’t tell you what to do, but you have the option of donating to Doug Jones here. Or let a child molester/all-around garbage human be a senator. Again, the choice is try to prevent a judge who deemed marriage equality worse than slavery and likened it to the Holocaust, essentially, and support a prominent lawyer who prosecuted two Ku Klux Klan members for killing children, or be like, “Nah, that sounds fine to me.” Here’s that link again: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/p4b4jones

Pregnant Women: Everyone’s Property

strangers in New York

First, a disclaimer: I’ve never been pregnant.

Ergo, I don’t know what it’s like to have another gym member grasp my belly and murmur prayers or whatever to the fetus inside. But that’s something I witnessed when I walked into Bodypump class this week. This poor pregnant lady was standing there, just wanting to get her workout on, while another woman smiled and stroked her tummy.

Which begs the question: What makes it okay for strangers to randomly touch pregnant women? Like, if someone came up to me and rubbed my tummy, I would cry bad touch. And I would imagine a parent would do the same if someone did that to his or her child. Why is it okay when it’s a combo of the two?

Maybe I’m wrong, and pregnant women really like having their bellies caressed by distant acquaintances, so if you’ve been pregnant and enjoy that, feel free to let me know.