Up until last week, I was living on the Lower East Side in a converted warehouse owned by a cheap Lubavitcher with a penchant for illegal Chinese slave labor. The place is so jury-rigged that everytime it rains, there's a flood and the elevator stops working. There's a bunch of South Asian hedge fund douchebags that throw parties on the roof a lot. There are the Korean NYU students next door. There's a Hollywood A-list daughter who collects cats and invites models and recognizable cokehead actresses over a lot. Nobody really stays here for more than a year, so I didn't get to know any of them.

I don't know anyone in my new wop-tastic neighborhood in Brooklyn yet.