The Pool Picture Police

Saturday was not too friggin’ bad. Hot, 95, and awesome outside.

So, I go up to the roof pool where the view is, as so eloquently spoken by a stranger passing, “holy shit.” Yes, it is, it is indeed, which is why I have spent the last 15 years throwing money after this rented apartment, rather than moving out of the big dirty apple where I could afford something somewhat larger than a 500 square foot apartment neatly divided into three bedrooms and a den. And a stall shower. In the hall. If you can call it that. Well, anyway, back to the pool. As I turned to dip, I noticed the new lifeguard, sleeping. Or at least he appeared to be sleeping. So I whipped out my Cannon to show you guys how terribly dangerous roof pools are when the lifeguard is snoozing and suddenly, he POPPED TO LIFE. “No picture taking in here. No picture taking in HERE!” What?? I’ve lived here for 15 years and I always take pictures in here. “Well, you are NOT SUPPOSED TO!” Where is the manager? (My usual kneejerk reaction: SPEAK TO THE PARTY IN CHARGE.) Barefoot and bathing suit clad, I composed myself to ask her: “What the FUCK?” To which her response was, “well, I don’t know why exactly. They think that maybe you could make money selling pictures of the Empire State Building.” What???I’ve never heard anything SO RIDICULOUS IN ALL MY LIFE.

So, There.

And THERE.

and THERE.

All those fantastic views of the roof deck and the FUGGIN’ EMPIRE STATE BUILDING.

I am going to sell them all to US WEEKLY.